


Brothers

by cowgirl65



Category: The Big Valley
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Episode s01e26 Into The Widow's Web, Episode: s01e01 Palms of Glory, Episode: s01e12 Night of the Wolf, Episode: s04e04 Run of the Cat, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Half-Sibling Incest, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:08:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowgirl65/pseuds/cowgirl65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Son, brother, father, lover, friend.  There is room in the heart for all the affections, as there is room in heaven for all the stars.</i> – Victor Hugo</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _  
>  **I don't own The Big Valley and make no money from this. The episodes used in this story have only been added to, not changed.**   
>  _

Jarrod paused, his hand barely touching the door, and wondered if he dared go inside. Hushed whispers in the gentlemen’s clubs he frequented, almost ashamed to mention it but with a certain illicit thrill for knowing, had told him of this place. Frequented by those of an… unnatural persuasion, was the way it was usually described, and everyone would nod knowingly over their snifters of brandy and fine cigars when it was.

Jarrod would nod and wink along with the rest, all the time wondering what they would do if they knew his thoughts wandered down that aberrant path more often than he cared to admit. He would tell himself he loved women, that a soft bosom and curved hip were all he needed to start the stirrings of desire, but late at night when he was alone in his bed with only his hand for company, the images in the respected lawyer’s mind invariably turned from those sweet curves to hard muscle, to rough calloused hands stroking his body, to being penetrated by a hot, thick shaft like he’d heard could happen in even darker whispers. Sometimes he even tried to emulate that feeling, shoving two or even three fingers in as far as they could go and rubbing that spot that he found would send him arching off the bed. Later, of course, he would deny it, even to himself, but finally he just had to know. Just had to discover if he really was of that unnatural persuasion of men who desired other men or if it was just the lure of the forbidden.

That was how he ended up in front of an establishment notorious for being frequented by that sort of man. But still he hesitated. What if someone recognized him? What if it got back to his family in Stockton? Well, he rationalized, he could just say he was looking for someone, maybe someone who had information on Hannibal Jordan. Lord knew he needed all the help he could get if he was to prevail against the Coastal and Western. Excuse in hand, Jarrod pushed open the door.

On first glance, the large room looked like any other gambling and drinking establishment. Poker tables with players all intent on their cards, blackjack and a wheel of fortune, patrons lounging against the long bar with drinks in hand.

That was on first glance. As Jarrod made his way to the bar, the difference finally struck him. There were no painted ladies, no saloon girls in feathers and sequins serving drinks or hanging on the arms of the more successful gamblers. It wasn’t just the lack of female presence either. Jarrod requested a whiskey from the bartender and took stock of the room’s occupants. Unlike other saloons or gambling halls, men were rubbing shoulder to shoulder, not giving the same distance he was used to. He even saw one slide his hand up another man’s thigh and squeeze his crotch in an unmistakeable gesture. That made Jarrod look away, focus on his drink and try to halt his dick’s interest in the proceedings.

He finished the drink and asked for another. He wasn’t really sure what he’d do if someone sidled up next to him and whispered a proposition in his ear. _Say yes,_ his dick told him, but unlike some men he knew, Jarrod tended not to think with that part of his anatomy. So he sipped his drink and wondered if he could imbibe enough to overcome his inhibitions but still leave himself functional if he wanted to accept a licentious suggestion.

 

When the dark-haired man entered the room, Heath couldn’t believe his eyes. But there he was, Jarrod Barkley, head of that influential family, and, as he’d recently found out, Heath’s half-brother. From his corner at the end of the bar, the blond cowboy felt comfortable that he could scrutinize the other man without being noticed and he watched the lawyer intently.

It was obvious from his hesitant manner that Barkley wasn’t a regular here. Either he was looking for someone specific, which was the most logical explanation, or he was just looking and trying to get up the nerve to act on the impulse that had brought him to this place.

Heath signalled the bartender for another drink. He didn’t touch it other than to give his hands something to do and have a reason to stay where he was. Jarrod Barkley was incredibly handsome and from the looks he was getting from a few others, Heath wasn’t the only one who thought so. He was dressed plainly, not like Heath would expect from someone as rich as he was, but it showed good sense if he didn’t want to stand out. The clothes he was wearing also had another benefit; his broad shoulders were clearly defined and the tight cotton pants showed off his ass to perfection. Heath didn’t have a clear view of the front and wondered just what else was obvious through those tight pants.

The fact that Jarrod Barkley was in this place set Heath’s mind plotting. He’d come to San Francisco not long after burying his mother and finding out that he was the illegitimate son of none other than Thomas Barkley. Dead for six years, the man’s name was still revered throughout the state and the rest of his family wasn’t held in any less respect. Heath’s resentment had only grown over the miles from Strawberry, resentment of that huge house and unlimited wealth his father’s family enjoyed while he and his mama scraped out a meagre existence in a run-down rathole of a town. What he really wanted to do was ride up to that fine house, proclaim his parentage and demand what he was entitled to, his birthright and a share of everything Barkley. 

But Heath was no fool. All he really had for proof was a clipping in his mama’s Bible and the words of a dying woman. The Barkleys would run him out of town on a rail the moment he opened his mouth. So he decided to take some time and weigh his options, options that were rapidly opening up.

Heath thought carefully. If he approached Barkley and the man was only here on legitimate business, there’d be a brief exchange of pleasantries before Heath was politely brushed off. On the other hand, if the lawyer came here for the reason most men did…

Heath had a twinge of misgiving due to the fact that Barkley was his half-brother, but when it came right down to it, he was already damned to Hell for preferring to bury his dick in another man’s ass rather than a woman’s pussy. If Barkley did accept his proposition, he’d have no choice but to back Heath’s claim to his rightful share of the Barkley fortune or risk having Heath expose him as a sodomite. Better yet would be if Barkley was as inexperienced as his uncomfortable demeanour suggested. Heath’s groin tightened. Just the thought of taking Barkley’s virginity caused Heath’s cock to swell and the idea of bringing that powerful man to his knees, turning him into a quivering mass who would beg Heath to fuck him made Heath’s hand twitch to bring himself off right there.

Instead, he picked up his drink and sauntered over to where Barkley was standing. He leaned against the bar, hips thrust slightly forward so the bulge in his pants was easily noticed and said, “Haven’t seen you around here before.”

 

Jarrod started at the soft drawl. He chastised himself for not paying proper attention to the room as he turned towards the owner of the voice.

The man was tall, blond, dressed in plain working clothes and, in Jarrod’s opinion, incredibly good looking. Or that could just be the three or four whiskeys he’d imbibed, he thought ruefully, but the alcohol wasn’t interfering with his growing arousal. The man’s clothes had seen better days, but there was no doubt he took care of himself. Jarrod quickly discarded the idea that he was a common labourer; the way the man carried himself and the way his gunbelt was slung low on his hips made it obvious he was either a gunslinger or a cowboy. Jarrod involuntarily glanced down and caught his breath at the size of the bulge in the other man’s pants.

“Don’t come here often,” Jarrod dissembled. He wasn’t about to admit to the self-assured man beside him that he’d never been before.

The other man took a sip of his drink and flashed Jarrod a sexy, if slightly lopsided, grin. “Yep, reckon I would’ve remembered someone like you.” The blond’s frank appraisal of his body made Jarrod blush and his cock grew even harder. And when he licked his lips, Jarrod shuddered with the fervent and unexpected hope that he was about to be propositioned.

The man stuck his hand out. “Heath.”

“Jarrod.” A shiver went up Jarrod’s spine at the calloused hand and strong grip. He imagined that hand wrapping itself around his cock and had a hard time concentrating. But Heath’s next words came through loud and clear.

“Kinda crowded in here. Maybe we could go someplace more… private.”

Jarrod’s mouth grew dry. Did he really want to do this? But if he didn’t accept, he’d never be sure and he didn’t think he could be content with the not knowing. “I’ve got a room not far from here.” Jarrod almost didn’t recognize them as his own words, but the cowboy just gave him another crooked grin and put down his glass.

“Lead the way.”

Jarrod had rented a room at a cheap boarding house a couple blocks away, just in case what was happening did happen. He didn’t want to take the chance on a potential partner’s lodgings; at least he knew this room was clean. He’d taken it under an assumed name and hoped that no one connected ‘Jared Brown’ with Jarrod Barkley.

 

Heath wasn’t displeased that Barkley was silent during the walk; idle chitchat wasn’t his way. That Barkley was prepared with a room pleased him as well. His brother obviously had brains as well as good looks and Heath reminded himself to be careful. He had a lot riding on this seduction of the respected lawyer, not the least of which was his own pleasure. Barkley opened the front door of a non-descript house on a narrow street and led the way up a creaking staircase. He unlocked a door at the top of the stairs, paused to light a lamp and moved aside to let Heath in.

“Nice,” Heath commented. The room was clean and the bed was large, two of the three things that really mattered. The third was standing awkwardly in front of him and Heath knew this was going to be a night neither of them would ever forget.


	2. Chapter 2

Once the door was locked, Heath didn’t give Barkley a chance to change his mind. He grabbed him by the ass, pulled him close so he could grind his groin against the obvious bulge and took Barkley’s lips in a ruthless kiss. Heath took advantage of the momentary surprise to force his tongue into the other man’s mouth. Barkley finally relaxed and his hands came up to tentatively caress Heath’s hips. “I wonder how the rest of you tastes,” Heath murmured and pulled away far enough to slip his hands around front. He deftly undid the buttons of Barkley’s shirt and pulled it open.

The other man’s chest was smooth, missing the hair that covered his own, and Heath bent his head to suck hard on an exposed nipple. That elicited a low moan and Heath bit down to make Barkley yelp before he straightened up. “I reckon we’re wearing too many clothes,” he said suggestively. “I’d like to see what I’m getting.”

 

Jarrod could barely process the sensations brought on by the ravenous kiss and the unexpected assault on his chest. His hands trembled as he unfastened his trousers and exposed his desire for the other man to see.

“Impressive,” Heath drawled with a leer at Jarrod’s cock as he undressed as well.

“I could say the same,” Jarrod managed to say when he got a look at what was creating the bulge he noticed earlier. Heath was as well-endowed as himself and Jarrod had a momentary surge of panic at the thought of having something so big thrust inside him. But the panic was overshadowed by desire and Jarrod started to shiver in anticipation.

 

Heath sat on the room’s only chair to remove his boots and take his pants off the rest of the way before gesturing Jarrod over. The lust and apprehension in those blue eyes was unmistakeable. “Do you like sucking cock?” Heath wanted to keep Barkley aroused and on edge at the same time and from the look on his face, he was succeeding. Yep, this was going to be one hell of a night.

“Uh…”

Heath grabbed Barkley’s upper arms, admiring the muscle he felt there, and pulled him down to his knees. “I can only imagine those lips of yours wrapped around me.” There was a moment’s hesitation and then the dark head bent down. Heath let him take his time, enjoying the tentative licks on the head of his dick and he breathed in sharply when those delectable lips finally engulfed him.

 

Jarrod wasn’t sure what to expect, but the taste of the fluid leaking from the tip of Heath’s cock wasn’t at all unpleasant. The sudden inhale of breath when he took it into his mouth only inflamed his lust and Jarrod wrapped his lips around the hard shaft and took it in as far as he dared. Hands twined in his hair as he sucked and Jarrod wondered what he would do if Heath actually climaxed in his mouth.

But it didn’t get that far. Heath pulled out and leaned down for another lip-bruising kiss. “Your turn.” He slid off the chair and buried his head in Jarrod’s crotch. There was nothing hesitant about Heath’s intentions; Jarrod almost lost it when his cock was swallowed completely and hung on to his control tooth and nail.

“Oh god,” he moaned. His hips started to thrust involuntarily. Suddenly the moist heat was gone and Heath grabbed the base of his cock in a vice-like grip.

“Don’t want this to be over too soon,” he drawled.

Jarrod gulped and worked to regain control. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“C’mon.” Heath stood and gave Jarrod his hand to help him to his feet. Then he gave him a shove and Jarrod found himself on the bed and on his back with Heath’s weight pinning him down. Heath’s cock rubbed deliciously against his own as the blond kissed his neck hungrily. The passionate kisses trailed down to his shoulder, down his chest and to his groin. Heath sucked hard on the base of Jarrod’s cock and Jarrod knew it was going to leave a mark. His arousal was more intense than he’d ever known and the awareness that Heath was marking his body only strengthened his desire.

 

Barkley moaned and writhed as Heath left a trail of livid marks down his neck and chest and Heath wondered how the other man would explain those marks he’d deliberately placed high enough so they couldn’t be easily covered. Barkley’s obvious hunger was inflaming Heath’s desire to new heights as well and Heath wanted nothing more than embed his cock in the lawyer’s ass.

“So good,” Barkley moaned beneath him. “Please…”

Heath didn’t wait for another invitation, he just flipped the other man over. He reached up, grabbed the pillow to stuff under Barkley’s hips and, before he could react, Heath pulled his ass cheeks apart and ran his tongue over and then into the tight pucker. When Barkley groaned, “More,” and pushed back against his questing tongue, he wondered if anyone suspected what a slut the eldest Barkley son really was.

“Oh, I’ll give you more,” Heath muttered as he straightened up and aligned his cock with Barkley’s hole. He was going to slake his lusts in that tight ass, fuck Barkley over just like his father had fucked over Heath and his mother. Heath pushed just the tip in and then without any further preparation, rammed it home.

 

Jarrod had never felt anything like it when the tip of Heath’s tongue penetrated him. His body cried out for more and he wasn’t sure if he actually voiced that thought aloud. There was no doubt in his mind anymore; he wanted it. He knew having something that big pushed inside of him was going to hurt, but his mind was too fogged with lust to care. All he wanted was to be fucked, to be mounted like a mare at breeding time and anything else be damned. His breathing quickened when he felt the tip of Heath’s cock against him and then he almost screamed at the searing pain when Heath shoved it all the way in. Jarrod struggled, tried to get away from the pain, but Heath had too firm of a firm grip on his hips. His struggles only seemed to fuel Heath’s desire; the thrusting became more ferocious and Jarrod felt he was going to be split in two.

Then the pain receded and he started to grow accustomed to the stretch. Suddenly, Heath hit that spot that sent the lust shooting from his ass to his cock to his brain and back again. Jarrod cried out again, but this time it was in pleasure. “Oh god, more, please,” he begged. He pushed back against Heath’s thrusts and when that strong, calloused hand wrapped itself around his cock and started stroking it roughly, Jarrod was lost.

 

A part of Heath’s brain told him to slow down, that Barkley was mostly likely a virgin and had to be hurting. But Heath ignored the sounds of pain beneath him and held the struggling man down. He needed to punish, to expend all his hate and frustration and being able to take it out on a symbol of his resentment was too strong a compulsion to ignore. 

But then the struggles slowed and that tight ass started pushing against him. The cries of pain turned into grunts and moans of animal lust and Heath felt a twinge of guilt over his brutal treatment when Barkley started begging and pleading for more. “You are a slut,” Heath told him as he twisted his hips to make sure he impacted that sweet spot he knew was there. Reaching around, he started to stroke Barkley’s cock. Barkley screamed as Heath pumped the heavy organ, his seed shot hot across Heath’s hand and his tight hole clamped down on Heath’s cock. Heath rode out the shocks and contractions of Barkley’s orgasm and then, when the body beneath him went limp, Heath resumed his assault and with a few more sharp stabs, filled Barkley with his own release.

Still holding the other man against him and keeping his cock firmly inside, Heath rolled onto the bed. Barkley didn’t protest; in fact, Heath suspected the intensity of being fucked up the ass for the first time had driven the man to the point of unconsciousness.

“You’re never going to forget how I made you feel,” he whispered as he pulled out. “We’ll be meeting again, you got my word on that.” 

And as he slipped out of the bed and pulled his clothes on, he had to admit he’d probably never forget how Barkley had made him feel either. Heath debated staying and falling asleep curled up next to that firm body, but he knew the impact would be greater if Barkley woke up alone. 

 

Jarrod woke to the sounds of a city waking up for the morning. He hurt, oh god he hurt. His belly was sticky with dried semen and he could feel more semen seeping out of his throbbing ass. Jarrod closed his eyes again. Had he really gone to a bar like a cheap whore looking for a man? Had he really taken that man up to his rented room so he could be fucked senseless like that same whore? He remembered practically begging for it and vaguely remembered Heath calling him a slut. Well, he’d acted like one and surprisingly felt very little shame about it. All he could think about was doing it again and the sense of relief in discovering his true inclinations. Not something he could indulge in often, Jarrod knew, but he certainly would as often as he dared.

Jarrod crawled slowly out of bed and wondered if he would encounter Heath again. He shouldn’t have been surprised that he woke up alone, but there was a faint longing to have woken up in the other man’s arms. Jarrod tried to shrug off the disappointment as he cleaned himself with the water from the basin. Then he caught a glimpse of his body in the mirror and paused. 

At least half a dozen love bites ran from his neck down his chest. He remembered Heath going all the way down and sure enough, there were more marks on his groin and a large one on the side of his dick. The memory of them being made caused a surge of desire and Jarrod watched as his cock slowly filled. He stepped back and the sight of his erect cock in the mirror and the marks of last night’s passion made him groan. “I am a slut,” he muttered as he grabbed his erection.

He lay down on his back, spread his legs and slowly pushed three fingers into his ass. The tenderness made him gasp, but even being as sore as he was, the pain was brief. His passage was still slick with Heath’s semen and his fingers slid in smoothly. Jarrod closed his eyes as he worked them in and out, stroking his cock to the same rhythm. It wasn’t quite the same as having someone else stroke him off and his ass full of that someone’s cock, but he rubbed his prostate with every push and Jarrod tried to imagine it was Heath stroking him, Heath fucking him. And when he finally came, it was with Heath’s name on his lips.


	3. Chapter 3

It took Heath a few more days before he decided to put his plan into motion. He’d been reading the papers and following Barkley’s fight against the Coastal and Western Railway’s move to take a number of farms in the San Joaquin Valley. His family looked to be on the side of the angels in their staunch defence of their fellow man, but Heath had to wonder if they were only fighting on principle since Tom Barkley had died in the first battle of the same war. Even though he couldn’t bring himself to want more kudos for the high and mighty Barkleys, Heath found himself hoping that Jarrod Barkley’s bill would be passed for the farmers’ sakes. He couldn’t imagine having something that he’d sweated and slaved over for ten years be ripped out from under him.

But he heard that Barkley was going to be heading back to Stockton soon to continue the fight from there and he knew that it was now or never. Barkley was too much in the public eye at the moment to risk a scandal and Heath was confident that he’d back his claim even if he wasn’t welcomed with open arms.

As he packed his few belongings, Heath also had to admit he was eager to see Jarrod Barkley again. That night had been some of the best sex he’d ever had and, brother or not, he was determined to have that tight ass again even if he had to blackmail Barkley into that too. Heath grimaced. It went against everything he’s been taught to resort to blackmail. He’d learned to read at his mama’s knee, puzzling out passages from her worn Bible and those words had stuck with him all these years. 1”But I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you.” That passage came unbidden to his mind and Heath almost decided not to go to Stockton, to just forget he’d ever heard the name Tom Barkley and go on with his life. But there was another passage as well. 2”Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.” Tom Barkley had rutted with his mother and abandoned her, had gotten her with child and left her to struggle on her own. Heath was owed that eye, those stripes, and by Hell or high water, he was going to collect.

But his family had nothing to do with it, Heath’s conscience whispered. But they’d been living high on the hog while Heath had to do with whatever he could find. They had everything while Heath had nothing. Less than nothing since his mama was now dead. Heath ruthlessly shoved his conscience away and continued packing.

 

Jarrod watched the valley pass by the window of his private railcar. The valley he’d fought to save for those who’d toiled to make it some of the richest farmland in the state. The valley he loved and had failed utterly. 

The porter poked his head in. “Mr. Crown said he’d come by in two minutes, Mr. Barkley.”

“Thank you, James.”

The porter nodded and left and Jarrod turned back to the window. He tried to ready his mind for the confrontation with Jordan’s right-hand man but other thoughts came unbidden instead. Thoughts of being pinned to a mattress, the imagined feeling of being filled to capacity and fucked for all he was worth filled his mind. He didn’t know how someone he’d met only once could affect him this much, but not an hour went by that he didn’t think of Heath and the way the other man made him feel. With everything going on, he hadn’t gotten a chance to look for another liaison and didn’t know if it was only Heath or if any well-favoured man would do. And from the way things were going, he wasn’t sure when he’d get the opportunity.

At that minute the door opened and Crown entered. Jarrod walked over, shook the other man’s hand and handed him a small glass of sherry. “May I offer you a bite of lunch?” he asked as they walked to the table.

“I usually don’t,” Crown said, moving to the chair opposite Jarrod.

“No?”

Crown sat. “Not really.”

Jarrod sat as well, pushing all other thoughts aside the same way he did when he was in a courtroom or on the floor of the legislature. “That's the mark of an ambitious man. Also leads to an ulcer. Eat lunch, Crown. It's good for your health.” He picked up his own glass. “Well, what shall we drink to?” He waited while Crown considered.

“To a new day.” Crown lifted his glass.

This wasn’t the type of a new day that Jarrod would ever drink to. “No. No, I think I have a better one. To the man who won it, your lord and master, Hannibal Jordan.”

Crown saluted with his glass and they drank.

But Jarrod couldn’t leave it at that. “Who, with one quick tug of his fat, grubby little fist makes paupers out of 2,000 men.” Jarrod sat back, posture deceptively casual. “Think of it, Crown, the genius. 2,000 farmers, living on land they settled, homesteaded, worked...”

“Railroad land,” Crown interrupted.

“Sold to them.”

“Leased.”

But Jarrod didn’t skip a beat. “Sold to them 10 years ago at auction and you know it.”

“You took that case to the legislature. You got your bill out of committee and onto the floor and passed.”

“And vetoed.” That stuck in Jarrod’s craw. One man shouldn’t be able to overturn the will of the entire elected body, even the governor of the state. It smacked of partisanship, or more likely, bribery.

“It was illegal. The governor killed it.”

Now Jarrod’s temper started to boil at the unfairness of it all. What was the use of having a democracy if one man held all the power? He held himself firmly in check, but still snapped, “Jordan killed it.”

“And now you're preparing a move to rescind.”

Jarrod stared out the window. “I am.” Hopefully, someone would remind the governor that the people he was fucking around had elected him and could depose him just as easily.

Crown held up his glass again. “So meanwhile, to peace.”

Jarrod didn’t drink; he wasn’t about to be pacified that easily. He looked out the window again. “You know, Crown, over that hill there there's a town, land worked and tilled… olives, figs, grapes, cattle…” He knew the work that went into making a life for a family. His parents had come to the valley with nothing but determination. The life of privilege he now led started in a small one-room cabin with a leaky roof and as a small boy, he’d worked as hard as his mother and father to stay clothed and fed. He couldn’t imagine being told it was all for nothing. “That's an awful lot to ask a man to give up... peacefully.”

“That's what you're going to tell the men?”

Jarrod feigned innocence. He wanted a peaceful solution as well, but he knew the temperament of his neighbours, not to mention his brother Nick. “I, Crown?”

Crown leaned forward, his posture earnest. “Oh, you're the one they're going to turn to, you or your brothers, just like they did your father.”

Jarrod leaned onto his elbows, bringing himself closer to his adversary. “You'd like to know how I'm going to advise them, is that it?”

Crown swirled the sherry in his glass and watched it as he spoke. “Well, let's say I'd like you to know what will happen if you advise them improperly. How many was it last time, Barkley? Ten dead? Twelve? Not even for openers.”

Jarrod didn’t acknowledge the implied threat, even though his belly clenched at the memory of his father’s body covered in blood and his mother’s tears. Instead he only said, “The day of the spike and iron, is that it?”

Crown leaned back and Jarrod fought the urge to smack that smug expression off his face. “No man can beat it.”

Jarrod turned to the window again and a sudden movement caught his eye. A man on a horse, racing the train. “There’s one who’s sure trying.” He’d heard of men attempting to beat the iron horse with a flesh and blood one, but had never actually seen it. Sometimes they succeeded, but when they failed the attempt, it often cost them their lives.

Crown came around to peer out the window as well. “Oh, not a chance.”

That dismissal brought out the gambler in Jarrod and he couldn’t resist goading his opponent. He turned to Crown. “Fifty.”

“One hundred,” Crown countered and the bet was on.

They moved outside to keep pace with the rider, who was slowly passing them. Jarrod urged a reluctant Crown into the next car. They pushed their way through the crowd that was encouraging the rider and Jarrod upped the ante. “Five hundred,” and wasn’t surprised when Crown raised to seven fifty.

Jarrod paused outside between the cars. The rider was finally close enough for Jarrod to see his face and when he recognized him, Jarrod couldn’t contain a wide grin. That man deserved more faith than seven fifty. “A thousand,” he challenged Crown. He watched as Heath leaned low over his horse’s neck and encouraged her with slaps of the reins. His mount responded with a new surge of speed. The excitement building in Jarrod’s belly was making his way to his cock and he was glad Crown was behind him. 

“Twelve fifty.”

Jarrod turned to look at Crown. The other man didn’t exhibit the same enthusiasm, but Jarrod’s recklessness was still growing. He nodded his acceptance and turned back to the race.

Then Heath looked straight at him and Jarrod thought his heart would stop in his chest. The train blew its whistle to signal the upcoming crossing and Heath turned his attention back to the road. He continued to gain on the locomotive and Jarrod had to go higher. “Fifteen hundred.”

Crown nodded unenthusiastically and Jarrod’s attention went back to the finish of the race. His gut clenched at how close Heath was going to cut it and Jarrod suddenly wasn’t sure the other man was going to make it. Pull up, he thought, but he couldn’t imagine the man who’d taken him so forcefully would ever turn back from something he’d started. So Jarrod watched and prayed and raced with Crown to the other side to see Heath gallop off into the hills. He laughed in giddy relief.

“So no man beats the iron, eh, Crown?” Jarrod tucked his hand into his pocket and leaned against the back of the car.

“Well, sometimes, maybe for a while.” Crown pulled out his billfold and counted out fifteen hundred. “But sooner or later, like all men, they die... and all they leave behind is dust.” He handed the money to Jarrod. “That from a man who doesn't eat lunch.”

Crown went inside and Jarrod followed, his enthusiasm dampened by the spectre of what was to come.

 

Heath had had himself a day. A dunking in the river after an unexpected encounter with an arrogant cowboy he suspected was the second Barkley son Nick, that inexplicable urge to race a train and thinking he saw Jarrod Barkley on the same train urging him on, topped off by an encounter with a blonde-haired, blue-eyed wildcat at the side of his father’s grave.

He let his mare pick her way down the trail as he considered the conversation with the blonde spitfire who’d turned out to be his sister. He didn’t really know what prompted him to tell her he was looking for work, but thinking on it some more, it might be a good idea to try to get hired on at the Barkleys’. Get the lay of the land, so to speak, before deciding on a course of action. If it had been Nick Barkley on the bridge, Heath was suspected the man might be worthy of respect, arrogance or not. 

Then there was Jarrod and Heath had to adjust his pants at the thought of being with him again. Damn, Heath thought he’d only propositioned him to gain some leverage, but he couldn’t get that night out of his mind and didn’t know where to place him. Hot and shameless in bed and from all accounts, a tireless crusader for the rights of others. Could he take out the sins of the father on the son? He supposed he’d have to wait and see. 

Heath passed through the large gates and stopped to take in what was in front of him. A large white mansion surrounded by elegant pillars dominated the yard, but he could still see an impressive spread of barns and other buildings beyond. So this was what it meant to be a Barkley. He shook his head and gigged his mare to the porch where he saw three men standing, Nick, Jarrod and what was probably the youngest, Eugene.

They came over to stand in front of him. Heath knew it was bad manners to stay mounted, but he liked the feeling of being able to look down on those rich Barkleys. Nick was sporting a wide grin and Jarrod… Heath wasn’t sure what to make of the expression on the lawyer’s face. He gave them all a grin of his own. “”Small world, ain’t it?” The comment was directed more at Jarrod than Nick and he noticed Jarrod start to smile.

“Something for you?” Nick asked.

Heath decided not to let on that he already knew who he was talking to. “Mr. Barkley if you know where I can find him.”

Nick threw a look at both his brothers. “Take your choice.”

If Heath was really to have his choice, he’d pick the eldest, strip him naked and fuck him right there on the porch of the grand house. But that could wait for later. Instead he just said, “Well, I was told Nick does the hiring.”

“Of what?” Nick’s expression grew slightly suspicious and Heath wondered why. If anyone knew more than they should about him, it was Jarrod.

“Well, line boss, hay waddy, hasher, cow prod, jingler. You name it, I've done it.” He threw a quick glance in Jarrod’s direction. Yep, he’d done him too.

“What’s your name?” Even as Jarrod asked it, Heath could see the knowing grin and decided to play along as though they’d just met.

“Heath.”

“I was on that train this afternoon. Quite a race.” So it really had been Jarrod he’d seen standing there. Heath suddenly wondered if Jarrod had been impressed at all or just thought it was the act of a fool.

He just shrugged. “No contest. Not the way those cabbage stacks come off a turn.”

But Nick was still suspicious. “Where you from?”

“West of the divide.” No one expected a man to answer questions about himself, so Heath kept his short.

But Nick had obviously forgotten that unwritten rule. “How west?”

“Pretty much all over.”

“Last place you worked?”

Heath was getting tired of the interrogation. “Corning,” he answered shortly.

Then Jarrod stepped in, his eyes never leaving Heath and Heath started to get aroused at the intensity of the gaze. “Sign him on, Nick.”

Nick glared at his brother. “To what?” he asked indignantly. “We’re full.”

“Well, he did me a little favour this afternoon. Sign him on.”

And a bigger favour a week ago, Heath smirked inwardly, if the wink Jarrod gave Nick was anything to go by. The lawyer turned and walked away, leaving Nick and the silent younger man in front of Heath. 

“Now take your gear over to the bunkhouse. See McNally. Tell him to sign you on,” Nick told him reluctantly. Apparently the oldest son’s word carried a lot of weight, even if Nick did the hiring. 

Heath tipped his hat to the two men, turned his mount’s head and rode off.

 

 

1Matthew 5:44

2Exodus 21:24-25


	4. Chapter 4

Jarrod hoped his abrupt departure didn’t seem rude, but the intensity in Heath’s eyes was making him hard beyond belief and he had to get out of there before he embarrassed himself. Fortunately, he didn’t run into his mother or Silas on the way to his room. He went inside, locked the door securely and sagged back against it. Unbuttoning his pants, he let his throbbing erection free with a sigh of relief. He’d been hoping to run into Heath after seeing him race the train, but having him show up on the doorstep was not something he could have imagined. Jarrod stroked himself firmly, tugging and squeezing his cock until his motions and the thought of Heath brought him to completion. Jarrod hung his head and gasped for air in the aftermath of his climax. It wasn’t anything like actually being with Heath, but it would have to do until he had a chance to see the other man alone.

He spent the rest of the afternoon and late into the evening working on the injunction he’d promised to file against the railroad the next morning, barely taking time to eat dinner. He didn’t know if it would do any good, but it was his last hope to avoid bloodshed.

“Jarrod!”

Jarrod looked up from his papers.

“Jarrod, Eugene, get down here!” the voice yelled again and Jarrod broke into a run when he heard an edge to his brother’s voice that was seldom there. He met Gene in the hall and they rushed down the stairs together.

“Nick, what in the name of...” he started as he entered the library and whirled at the sound of breaking glass to find Heath menacing him with a broken bottle. Jarrod’s heart started to pound wildly.

“Now I've had me a day,” Heath snarled. The smear of blood at the corner of his mouth matched that on Nick’s and Jarrod wondered what had happened. He felt like he was confronting a crouching mountain lion. “A fight and dunked in a stream and near killed by a train. Now this one's gonna be peaceful, you hear?” There was another tense moment. Jarrod eased up his defensive posture first, followed by Nick, Eugene and then Heath. 

“So this is what it is,” Heath commented as he wandered across the room. “Well, I wondered.” He gestured at the portrait hanging above the fireplace with the broken bottle. “The old stud himself.” 

Gene lunged for Heath and Jarrod held him back with a firm grip on his arm. He knew the strength the other man had and knew he could likely break Gene in two. Once he was sure Gene had himself under control, Jarrod let go of him and took a step towards Heath.

Heath continued looking at the portrait. “Boy howdy, don't he look proper. You know, I bet they buried him in those clothes, with his buttons all shined and his hair all spit and slickered, and a rose in his teeth, and the honeybees buzzin'.” Heath’s voice practically dripped with scorn and Jarrod started to get a bad feeling. 

This time it was Nick who lunged forward and Jarrod caught him just in time. “Oh, now that's all...” 

“Nick…” Jarrod warned.

Heath tossed the bottle on the ground as he paced back across the room. “I'll bet a band played, and there was singin' and wailin' and ever so good a time, and some parson readin’.” He turned back and looked coldly at the three brothers. “They buried my mama. But it wasn't in refinement, and no thousand people weeped over her grave. In a potter's field, like she was nothin', human or flesh.”

Jarrod saw the resentment in the younger man’s eyes and wondered where it came from. As far as he knew the only connection Heath had to the Barkleys was through him and he had to wonder what had happened to make Heath hate Tom Barkley so much.

Heath continued with his smoldering rage. “The night I was born, she was alone, in a tent in a rotten rathole of a mining camp up the Stanislaus.” Jarrod kept his hands on his hips as he realized where the tale was going. “And the rain beat down and turned the straw to mud. Do you know what she was? She was warm, and gentle and fair, and left to her own when her husband got liquored up and drowned in some stinking creek. Until he came.” Heath’s eyes flickered back to the portrait. 

Jarrod knew exactly what was being implied and now knew why Nick and Heath were both sporting bruises. He never knew how much his mother suspected; it wasn’t a son’s place to tell her that his father had never been the most faithful of husbands and it was entirely possible that Tom had left another child somewhere. “How long ago was this? 

“Twenty-four years.” 

“Where?” the lawyer asked. 

Heath stood his ground. “In a mining camp.” 

“You told us that,” Nick said abruptly from his position on the other side of the room. 

Twenty-four years. Jarrod remembered a time about that long ago when his father had been gone for a long while. He also remembered Tom’s distant demeanor when he’d finally returned. “What mining camp?”

“Strawberry,” was the succinct reply and that was when reality hit Jarrod. Heath was his brother. He’d been fucked by his brother and it was his brother’s hands he’d been fantasizing about ever since. Jarrod felt a bit sick.

Eugene turned to look at them and Jarrod didn’t move as Nick strode forward. “Come on. You know there was a lot of men in those camps. You know the kind of women…” 

“Nick!” Jarrod snapped, getting a hold of himself. It wasn’t the kind of women; even though he held their father in a great deal of respect, it was the kind of man Tom Barkley had been that had brought all this to pass. 

“There was only one of my mother!” Heath replied hotly. 

“Just the simple, sweet, innocent little...” Nick scoffed and Jarrod broke in again. He walked up to confront Heath. 

“What my brother is clumsily trying to determine,” he said, getting closer until he was face-to-face with Heath, “is when you came to hear.” They were close enough that Jarrod imagined he felt the heat emanating from Heath’s body.

In spite of his battered face, Heath stood strong. “A month ago.” 

Nick turned his back. “Oh, yeah, yeah, sure.” 

Jarrod continued his questioning. “What happened a month ago?” 

“My mother died.” 

“Confessions from a deathbed,” Nick commented derisively.

Jarrod finally snapped, “Nick, that'll be enough!” He didn’t know if his brother knew about their father’s straying outside his marriage but he was fed up with Nick’s attitude. It took two to make a child, after all. He turned back to Heath. “Well?” He knew in his heart Heath was telling the truth, but he also knew Nick would never let it pass unless Heath proved his claim to the rancher’s satisfaction. 

Heath picked up his glass of whiskey and turned away from them. “I'd been up on the Klamath. They called for me. Said she was sick, was dyin'. She never talked about it, who my father was, not in all those years.” Heath took a breath and continued, most of the anger gone from his tone. “There was something she wanted me to know, something she couldn't take to her grave. There was a Bible in a box, and she told me to get it. She said, ‘Turn to the back, to the last page.’ I started to, and this fell out.” Heath took a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and Jarrod recognized it as a newspaper clipping. “I picked it up, I read it. And I looked at her… and she was gone.” He turned and held out the paper towards Jarrod. Jarrod took it and instantly recognized the headline and the copy of the portrait that hung on the wall. He passed it to Nick.

“This it?” the rancher asked. “All of it? Just one piece of paper?” 

“He was my father,” Heath said defiantly. 

Nick folded up the paper and tucked it back into Heath’s pocket. “All right, boy…” 

“You don't believe me,” Heath accused. 

“Get his horse, Eugene,” Nick told the youngest brother.

“You're not dumpin' me the way he dumped her.” 

“Keep your voice down!” Nick shouted and Jarrod had to smile a bit at the incongruity of the statement and the volume with which it was uttered. 

Jarrod didn’t know how Heath would react, but even though he believed that Heath was his brother, he had no choice but to try and protect his family. “You put together a touching story,” the attorney said. “Not convincing, but touching.” He met the blue eyes of the man who’d given him the best sex of his life as he pulled a stack of bills from his pocket. “However, considering whom it might hurt, even though it is a lie, I'm willing to pay. Three hundred, four hundred, what'll you take?” Jarrod kept his face impassive.

Heath met his gaze coolly. “What I'm entitled to. A name, a heritage, a part of it all. What's mine.” 

Nick snatched the money out of Jarrod’s hand. “All right, boy. Now you listen to me.” He stuffed the money in Heath's shirt pocket. “I want you out of this house, off this place and out of this valley. And know this. If I ever lay eyes on you again, I'm gonna finish what I started tonight.”

Heath stared evenly at Nick. Without breaking eye contact, he took the money out of his pocket and put it into his whiskey glass. Setting the glass on the table, he turned and gave Jarrod a brief glance and the flash of a grin before walking to the door. As he left the room, he gave the three men a mocking wave, strode across the parlour and out the front door.

“Can you believe that?” Nick snarled as the door shut behind him. “Of all the nerve…”

But Jarrod was suddenly overcome with shame in the way he’d treated his one-time lover and probable half brother. He ignored Nick and Eugene’s questions as he left the house in search of Heath. He’d either gone to the stable or the bunkhouse and Jarrod decided on the stable. Sure enough, there he was, slipping the bridle onto his black’s nose.

“Heath…” Heath turned and Jarrod suddenly didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry just didn’t seem to be enough after the way he’d tried to buy him off and until he’d talked to his brothers, inviting Heath back to the house probably wasn’t going to get them anywhere.

“I’m not going far, counsellor.” Heath’s face was partly in shadow. “Gonna get myself a room in town until you decide what to do.”

“Until I decide…?” Jarrod was slightly confused. It wasn’t just his decision; it was all of theirs. But Heath’s next statement made things perfectly clear.

“Until you decide what’s more important to you, keeping a bastard out of your precious family tree or protecting that sterling reputation of yours. What do you think the good people of Stockton would say if they knew how much you liked having another man’s dick up your ass?”

Jarrod’s mouth suddenly went dry. He hadn’t expected that. He’d never expected another man to admit to what they’d done; it would be as damaging to one as the other.

But Heath just continued. “Reckon it don’t matter to me one way or the other. Either I get what I came for or I leave with nothing. I can just drift off across the Sierras once I let people know what you like to do behind closed doors and no one will be the wiser.” He leaned closer and Jarrod backed up uncomfortably. “See, I’ve got nothing to lose. You on the other hand, have everything.”

Jarrod mentally cursed himself. Was he really so naïve that he couldn’t imagine blackmail? As far as he was concerned, blackmailers ranked right up there with men like Hannibal Jordan and he had a hard time fitting Heath into that category. But Heath hadn’t even given him a chance, he’d just laid out his terms. Could he really back Heath’s claim after this? But Jarrod knew he had no choice. The desire to protect his family that prompted him to offer Heath money back in the house would force him to agree, whether he believed in Heath’s paternity or not.

Then Heath grabbed him and pushed him against the wall. “Maybe I’ll up the ante.” He grabbed Jarrod’s face roughly and kissed him hard, biting Jarrod’s lip in the process. “You’re mine, big brother. Anytime, anyplace I want your ass and you’ll give it to me. Like now.” 

Heath turned Jarrod so the lawyer was facing the wall and practically ripped the buttons off his trousers before yanking them down off his hips. He kissed and nipped at Jarrod’s neck when he removed his hands and Jarrod knew Heath was freeing his own cock. He briefly thought of fighting back, of kicking out and pushing Heath off him, but the truth was, he didn’t want to. Heath was right; he’d loved having that thick cock shoved up his ass and wanted Heath to take him here in the shadows of the barn, the rough wood scraping his cheek as he was claimed yet again. Hearing Heath spit, Jarrod was glad there was going to be something to make it easier, but the idea of pain didn’t phase him. All other thoughts were driven from his mind in the anticipation of the pleasure it would lead to and he bit his own lip to keep from crying out at the burning pain when Heath penetrated him. Heath’s pounding cock hit Jarrod in just the right way and Jarrod tried to match him thrust for thrust. He reached down to grab his own cock but Heath swatted his hand away and took it himself.

“Oh dear God,” Jarrod moaned as his orgasm ripped through him and if being impaled on Heath’s cock hadn’t been holding him up, he’d have collapsed to his knees. As it was, Heath continued his onslaught until Jarrod felt him hold himself in as deep as he could go and heard him grunt in satisfaction.

Heath finally pulled out and then Jarrod did collapse onto the straw.

“I’ll be at the Cattlemen’s Hotel,” Heath told him as he turned away to finish tacking up his mare. “Come see me tomorrow after lunch. I’ll fuck you senseless again and then you can tell me what you’ve decided.”

Jarrod didn’t think a response was really required and he just leaned heavily against the wall until he heard the hoofbeats of Heath’s departure. Then he slowly got to his feet and pulled his pants back up. Unlike before, this time he was filled with shame. Shame over his earlier treatment of Heath, shame that he’d ever let himself get into a position where someone could blackmail him and shame that he’d had intimate relations with his own brother. But the most shame stemmed from the plain and simple fact that he didn’t care that Heath was his brother. All he could think of was tomorrow afternoon in Heath’s hotel room and that if Heath did become a part of the family, that he’d be able to fuck him almost anytime.

He’d never before understood why some men were ruled by sex or why they’d risk anything to have it. Sure, it was nice, but he never really saw the fascination until now. Now he knew he was just like all the rest. He’d give anything to have Heath’s cock inside him, to have Heath’s hand wrapped around his own erection and to Jarrod, that was his biggest shame of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this might seem familiar as I've reworked this scene from "Palms of Glory" a few times, but each time, I try to add a few extra twists.


	5. Chapter 5

Heath rode away from the ranch. He didn’t know why he’d done what he did and the guilt was eating away at him. After listening to the talk amongst the hands and how highly they thought of their employers, he wondered if he could really do anything that would hurt them and had all but decided to ride off and leave his father’s family alone. But then Nick confronted him in the barn and in his anger, he’d blurted out that he was Tom Barkley’s bastard son. Even with their attitudes, he’d still intended just to ride away and try to forget everything after the altercation in the house. It just wasn’t in him to hurt people who’d never done anything to him other than exist and in spite of how he burned for acknowledgement of what was his, that was exactly what would happen if he pressed further. 

Then Jarrod followed him into the barn and, his resentment over the attempt to pay him off getting the best of him, Heath turned to blackmail. He threatened the other man with exposure, told him he had to become Heath’s sex slave and practically raped him up against the wall of the barn. It would have been rape if Jarrod hadn’t obviously wanted it so much and Heath was thoroughly ashamed of himself.

But in spite of his guilty conscience, Heath had to chuckle. He’d never met someone as enthusiastic as his big brother or anyone who seemed to like it so rough. His own cock was chafed from lack of lubrication; he didn’t even want to imagine what Jarrod’s ass felt like.

Heath sighed. Everything would be clearer after a good night’s sleep and he could still leave town before Jarrod arrived at the hotel tomorrow. He wondered if his brother would be disappointed and changed his mind. He’d fuck Jarrod first and then tell him he was going to leave with no strings attached. That would soothe his aggrieved conscience and Heath rode into Stockton with an easier heart.

Town was a madhouse. Heath made sure his mare was secure at the livery and took his belongings with him for safekeeping, even his saddle. The gunmen he’d heard had been hired by the Coastal and Western were drunk to their eyeballs and Heath hoped the law in town was wise enough to let them pass out before showing their faces. It was a smart sheriff who knew to sometimes just let things run their course.

Heath got himself a room, locked his gear securely inside and wandered back out in search of a drink.

That was when he saw her. That blonde wildcat from the gravesite was laying all around her with that same little whip, but the men pulling her off the horse paid no heed. The little fool was about to get herself raped and Heath knew he couldn’t stand by and let that happen, no matter what he’d almost done to Jarrod in the barn. Maybe it would even let him partially atone for an act he would have been ashamed of for the rest of his life.

He dashed into the street, pulled his half-sister out of hands of the mob and manhandled the struggling girl up to his room. He threw her inside and locked the door.

“I’m hurt,” she complained.

Heath shook his head in disbelief. “Hurt? You're lucky you're not dead, you little fool. What were you doing out there?” He strode across the room and looked out the window. Gunmen were riding down the street, shooting off their guns. She was more than a fool. 

Heath walked over to get some water to help clean the scratches she’d gotten. “Well?”

She glared at him. “Nobody talks to me like that. Not ever.”

“No?”

“No.”

Heath gestured towards the window and the drunken mob. “Try them.” He couldn’t believe she was so naïve that she didn’t know what had been a hairsbreadth away from happening

“I heard my brothers talking about it, what was in town, and I wanted to see.” She shot him an accusing look as he carried a rag and the water pitcher to the side of the bed. “You don't believe me.”

“Sit down,” was all he said. It didn’t matter what excuse she used, she was still a damn fool.

She complied, sashaying across the room and sitting next to him with a seductive smile and provocative posture. “You’re a rough one, aren’t you?”

You have no idea, Heath thought. If you were my type, you’d find out exactly how rough I am. Just ask your big brother. But he only kept ripping the rag and said, “I’ve crossed a few hills.”

“That's what I've always wanted to do, see places like you have, do what I want, no matter whatever.”

Heath didn’t respond, he just inspected her arm. “Hold still.” Those were admirable goals, but they’d never be realized if she didn’t have enough sense to keep herself from harm.

But she wasn’t done yet. “My brother Nick, he takes nothing from anyone.” 

“You're tellin' me.” Heath’s cheek still ached from the rancher’s right cross.

“That's how I'd like to be. My father was like that.” She looked down demurely, but when she looked up, the brazen look was back in her eyes. “My mother thinks I'm shameless. Jarrod says I'm spoiled. Nick… he understands. You're like Nick.” 

Heath looked up at that. Yes, to all appearances she was spoiled, but he was certain Jarrod was way more shameless and there was no way he was like that loud-mouthed braggart Nick. Well, not completely anyway; there was something about the tall rancher he admired and it wasn’t just the strength of his fist. But instead he just said, “Some guy really put his fingernails into you. Get some soap to that when you get home, you hear?” 

“Is that where you're taking me? Home?” That little minx was real lucky his tastes ran more towards hard muscles than soft curves. She had no idea he’d rather have one of her brothers up here any day, the oldest in particular. 

“Yeah, I think we both had ours for the night.” 

“Have we?” 

“I guess you know where you are.” Heath wondered if she really knew what she was playing at.

“Alone, in a room… with a man.” She looked at him seductively from behind long lashes. “It's the first time. And there's a first time for everything, isn't there? To run, to talk, to love.” 

She knew what she was playing at, after all. She leaned closer and it was all Heath could do not to laugh in her face. “To test your brother. Isn't that what you're doing?” She had no idea that it wasn’t much of a test; he’d just fucked their brother and if he was so inclined, it wasn’t likely he’d stop at kissing his sister. 

She started hitting him. “You liar! Lies!” 

Heath grabbed her firmly by the arms. “I'll say one thing for that old bear. He bred 'em wild.” Wild in spirit and wild in bed if he and Jarrod were any indication. As she struggled against him and kept trying to hit him, he wished any man who got her the best of luck. 

“All of it! Everything you told them, lies!” 

“Well, I don't fancy his breedin', miss,” he sneered, “and it's no pride I got in him for a daddy. But it's a proud name, and it's mine. And I'm gonna wear it, and people… boy howdy, they're gonna look up to me just like your brothers. And everything that's Barkley I'm gonna be too.” She didn’t need to know that he’d decided to leave without pursuing his claim.

Suddenly, the door burst and two men rushed in.

“I told you, man,” the taller man to his partner. Then he turned to Heath. “Out, boy. This is work for men.” He advanced on her and Heath took advantage of his focus to throw a bottle at his head.

But the man saw it coming and ducked in time. He grabbed Heath and threw a punch that happened to land right where Nick had hit him earlier. Heath fell across the bed.

An authoritative voice came from the door. The men stopped suddenly and Heath looked up to see the sheriff and deputy with guns drawn.

“That's all of it,” the sheriff commanded. He left the one on Heath to his deputy and pulled the other off the girl. “I'll let you explain to your family, Miss Barkley. They can explain to me.” The deputy ushered the men out of the room. “C’mon,” said the sheriff, “I’ll see you home.” 

 

Heath wasn’t sure what to do as he followed the sheriff and his sister back towards the ranch. Then she turned to the sheriff and said, “We're all right from here, Sheriff. Thank you.” He decided he’d just drop her off at the gate and go his own way. He ignored the lawman’s questions as he made plans to head across the mountains to Arizona or Nevada, try his luck there and forget he’d ever heard the name ‘Barkley’.

That was when they all saw the flames in the distance.

“That’s Swenson’s place.” The sheriff spurred his horse in the direction of the fire and the other two followed.

 

The scene was chaos when they arrived. Most of the buildings had already burned to the ground and men with buckets were trying to extinguish the last of the flames. Heath pulled to a stop and wondered if there was anything he could do. Hearing a buggy drive up, he turned and saw his sister run over to the silver-haired lady in the back seat. It was his first glimpse of Victoria Barkley, the woman his father raised three sons and a daughter with while he and his mama struggled on alone. 

Heath watched Nick walk up to one of the other men and grip his shoulder. ”They came, just came,” the man said as Heath saw his other two brothers walk slowly over. Jarrod’s expression was grim and Heath wondered what he was thinking. “With guns and torches, howling out like wolves. And I just stood there, aside, and watched them do it.” 

“Well, not my place.” A stocky man strode up, determination in every step. “And hanged I’ll be after paying for what I own.” He took something out of his pocket and waved it in front of Jarrod. “I have a paper here that says I’ll have to do just that.” He walked over to Nick and then to the sheriff. “By 8 o’clock in the morning, or have my place took out from under me. Well, I ain’t, you hear?” There was a thick silence. “I ain’t! Who stands with me?” The man held the paper aloft.

In the shadows, Heath remained mounted and watched the events unfold. This wasn’t his fight, even though it seemed it might be his brothers’ when Nick moved to stand beside the man.

Sheriff Lyman looked sternly at the middle Barkley son. “No one stands with you, Frank. I’m sorry, but legally after tomorrow the land’s no longer yours.”

Frank turned to the rancher standing beside him. “Nick,” he said, almost desperately, and then walked over to the other two Barkleys. “Jarrod, Eugene, listen. Two years ago, your daddy and mine fought and died for this, ‘cause your daddy said it was right to fight.”

Almost involuntarily, Heath looked over to where Victoria Barkley sat. Their daddy, her husband. He’d been killed in the same dispute and Heath could tell from the expression on her face that she was concerned her sons might now suffer the same fate.

“And what did it gain you?” Sheriff Lyman shouted. “Any one of you?” He turned to the man called Frank. “Your father…” and then to Jarrod, “and yours. Ten others, dead. Six years of false hope.”

Jarrod looked away as the sheriff continued talking. Heath watched him glance towards his mother and then Jarrod’s eyes met Heath’s. They held a bleak expression and Heath was reminded of his commander during the war when he’d ordered them over that hill into a battle everyone knew they wouldn’t win, the battle that had ended with over 350 men being taken to Carterson Prison.

Frank’s next words brought back that fateful day as well. “That true? What he says? Your daddy gave us nothing? No way to fight?” The farmer bowed his head and walked away, defeated. “Never did.”

It seemed to Heath that the great Tom Barkley’s death had done no more good than his captain’s when he was cut to ribbons by Confederate fire. Heath had seen enough brave men die in fights not their own and he wasn’t going to stay and watch the same happen to his brothers, acknowledged or not. He turned his mare’s head and galloped away.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jarrod saw Heath turn his horse’s head and leave and didn’t blame him. It wasn’t his fight after all. He had nothing invested in what was happening, not even the fact that it had been his father as well who’d lost his life in the same conflict six years earlier. To Heath, that father had been nothing more than the man who’d put a baby in his mother’s belly and Jarrod didn’t blame him one bit for riding away.

He turned his attention back to Frank Sample, who ripped the ultimatum from the railroad and threw it to the ground in despair. He watched as Nick took a long look around, catching each of them in his piercing gaze, with a longer look at his older brother before he walked over and stood beside Sample, arms crossed defiantly. Eugene looked at his eldest brother expectantly. There was disappointment in his eyes when Jarrod didn’t move to stand with Nick and Gene walked over on his own. Sig Swenson went to stand on his neighbour’s other side. 

Jarrod was torn. In spite of his belief and faith in the law, they were back to where they’d been when his father was gunned down. He’d hoped to avoid bloodshed; that was one of the reasons he became a lawyer, so battles could be fought with words rather than guns and prevent the pointless loss of life. He’d failed what he’d set out to do and now others were going to pay for it with their lives.

Looking up, Jarrod met the eyes of his mother. He could see fear there, fear that she might lose her sons the same way she’d lost their father. But there was also pride in those grey depths, pride in all of them for holding true to their beliefs no matter what those beliefs might be. An unasked for voice wondered just what she’d think of the way he lusted after his own half-brother but Jarrod ruthlessly silenced it.

He turned his attention back to the fight at hand and knew he had no choice to take a stand along with his brothers. It was still his fight, even though not in the way he’d chose if he could. Jarrod walked over to stand beside them and the rest of the valley farmers who had come to fight the fire moved in behind.

“Harry, I’ve known you most of my life,” Jarrod said, his posture and expression implacable, “and respected you. Enough to be honest.”

“Any man who comes to try to take that farm, he’s going to be killed,” Nick finished for his brother.

The sheriff looked from one unyielding face to another and responded in kind. “I’m sorry to hear that, because I’m going to be with them.” He turned, mounted his horse and rode away, leaving the brothers united with their neighbours against whatever they would face in the morning.

 

*

Heath rode away from the mansion, five hundred whiskey-soaked dollars in his pocket, a saddlebag full of apples and a mind full of words spoken to him by his father’s wife.

Any son of my husband has a right to be proud. Live as he would live, fight as he would fight, and no one… no one can deny you his birthright.

He’d told his brothers that he wanted that birthright; much to his shame, he’d even threatened to expose Jarrod’s sexual preferences, preferences he shared, to get it.

Now it was seemingly being offered to him unconditionally, he just had to decide if he was going to take it. He wondered what Jarrod would say. Somehow, he didn’t think the other man would give in to blackmail easily, but on the other hand, a scandal like Tom Barkley’s eldest son being a sodomite would probably rock his family more than the arrival of a bastard son. His brother had no way of knowing that Heath had reconsidered his threat and Heath winced, sure he knew what that principled, if sexually debauched, man thought of someone who would stoop so low.

Suddenly, Heath knew what he needed to do. If he was going to wear that proud name and be everything Barkley like he’d told his wildcat sister in his hotel room, he had to start acting like it. And even though he had no personal stake in the farmers’ fight, was it really not his? In a way, he was one of them, a man who’d been born with nothing and had to make his way by the sweat of his own brow. He wondered again if his brothers were truly standing with the farmers or only fighting to maintain the family image and remembered their faces after the fire. Nick’s determination, Eugene’s disappointment in his older brother for not immediately standing with them and Jarrod…

Heath understood his brother’s hesitation. If he hated violence and unnecessary killing as much as Heath did, it wasn’t surprising he didn’t jump right in to what was sure to prove a deadly firefight. He didn’t know what happened at the farm after he left, but he doubted Jarrod would have stayed silent. A man just didn’t stand by while his brothers put themselves in the line of fire, especially if it was for a cause he believed in as well. Jarrod had put in too many hours fighting the railroad’s land grab for Heath to believe it wasn’t his older brother’s fight as much as anyone else’s.

So instead of riding away, Heath turned his horse in the direction of town. If he was going to stand with his brothers in the morning, he was going to need a good night’s sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Nick sat on Sample’s porch in the bright early morning sunshine. “I tried to run for cover,” he told his rapt audience, gesturing for emphasis, “but these claws were ripping right into my back, and the teeth were hitting my neck. I've been up against some cats before...”

“How’d you get out?” one of the men asked.

“Her husband came home.” Jarrod walked up behind him to lean against the post and ignored Nick’s glare. Most of the men were already there, checking their pistols, loading their rifles and making small talk as they accepted cups of coffee from Nettie Sample, trying to distract themselves from what was about to come.

Nick crossed his arms. “What time is it?”

Jarrod reached into his pocket and pulled out his watch. He opened it, glancing briefly before returning it to his pocket and squinting off into the distance. “Ten minutes to eight.”

Nick slouched more heavily against the rail, smacked his black-gloved hands together impatiently and the brothers waited together in silence.

“Jarrod. Nick.” Frank Sample nodded in the direction of town and both men turned their heads towards the sound of approaching riders.

Nick jumped from his perch on the porch rail, moving to stand behind it while Jarrod stepped out in front. Rifles and pistols were readied as almost two dozen men rode into the yard.

“Nettie!” Sample called to his wife and she came slowly out of the house, her eyes never leaving the approaching men. “Where are the kids?”

“In the cellar.”

“Get with them,” Sample told her. Nettie glanced at him before she moved to do his bidding.

The men pulled their horses to a halt, milling restlessly in front of the house. Sheriff Lyman dismounted and approached.

“That’s far enough, Harry,” Frank told him, the determined farmer slowly walking towards Stockton’s sheriff. The air was silent, only the snort of a horse breaking the stillness.

The sheriff slowly pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. He started to read. “ ‘At 8:00 a.m., by order of the governor of the state of California’...”

“We know what it says, Harry,” Jarrod broke in, his posture deceptively casual.

Harry continued reading. “ ‘And the power vested in me as sheriff of this county’...”

“We know what it says,” Nick repeated belligerently.

Harry folded the paper, regret in his eyes and turned at the sound of more hoofbeats. Everyone else turned with him and Jarrod exchanged a glance with Nick when he recognized the rider. Jarrod’s disappointment when Heath turned out to be a blackmailer lessened. No man would come to a fight that wasn’t his if he didn’t have some principles.

The sheriff tried again. “Frank, these people have been empowered as agents of the Coastal and Western to take possession of your property.”

“I’ll be dead first.” The normally genial farmer’s eyes were cold. 

“Now, Frank, you listen.” The sheriff’s voice was almost desperate, pleading with the assembled men. “All of you, listen.” 

The black horse galloped through the assembled riders, stopping at the house as its rider jumped from the saddle, pulled the rifle from its sheath and hurried onto the porch. Heath held the rifle firmly as he took a position behind his brothers.

“These men have been duly sworn and deputized, and every one with the right to do as they see fit if they're defied.” Harry Lyman looked from the men assembled on the porch to those who would use whatever force necessary to take that land away before turning back. “Frank, you've got family. Now that must mean something. You think of your people.” 

No one spoke, not a muscle twitched. He turned to appeal to the men whose father had been a leader in the valley. “In the name of God, Jarrod, Nick!” 

Everyone stared, unmoving, not speaking. The leader of the hired men took a look at his watch and held up a finger to indicate one minute. 

“You have no way!” the sheriff tried again. “Jarrod, tell them!”

“Get out of this, Harry,” Nick warned. Neither of them wanted to see an old friend get killed for just doing his duty. 

“You men are asking to be killed!” It was as if Lyman was talking to a stone wall. “You're fighting for something you haven't a chance of winning!”

“The courthouse opens at 9:00,” Jarrod offered, taking one more chance to avoid bloodshed. “Will you wait?”

Sheriff Lyman looked to the railroad’s men, undecided. Pistols were loosened from holsters, rifles were readied and Jarrod slowly removed the safety loop from his gun. Without warning, the leader drew his pistol and shot Sample dead in the chest, the unfortunate farmer flying backwards to lie unmoving in the dirt. 

Nick jumped over the porch rail and pulled his gun, firing as bullets started flying in all directions. Harry Lyman moved in a circle, as if still trying to find a way to stop the altercation. Jarrod watched in horror as a stray bullet felled his friend and fellow upholder of justice. He looked up as a man was hit and toppled from the barn loft clutching his chest and the lawyer finally pulled his own gun to pick several men off their horses. Pain ripped through his arm and Jarrod fell back, clutching at the gunshot wound. He saw Eugene come off the porch and crouch down beside him as he regained his composure and sent a few more shots into the fray.

 

Taking careful aim, Heath used the skills he’d learned as a sharpshooter in the Union army to pick off several of his opponents before he saw Jarrod fall back against the steps. He almost leaped down beside him before he saw their youngest brother do the same and shoot the man who looked to be taking advantage of Jarrod’s momentary incapacitation. His heart started beating again when Jarrod resumed firing and he realized the other man hadn’t been seriously wounded. Heath took aim and felled another man who’d taken aim at Jarrod. He took no pleasure in killing and knew he’d be an emotional wreck after all was said and done, but that didn’t make him hesitate to pull the trigger. 

Finally, the hired guns turned tail and ran, knowing they had been beaten. Men helped wounded comrades to ride double, followed by a few more shots fired from the defenders as Nettie Sample rushed from the house to the side of her slain husband and as the false euphoria brought on by the fight drained away, Heath had to find a place to sit before his knees decided to buckle.

 

Jarrod looked around at the carnage. Nick came over to stand beside him and Jarrod let him look at his bloody sleeve without complaint. Too many good men had died and even though Jarrod wished they’d waited for the courts, he knew they’d only done what was necessary.

Then he saw Heath sitting against a barrel, his hands shaking as he tried to roll a cigarette, and the last of Jarrod’s resentment slipped away. No man hard-hearted enough to ruin his brother and family would risk his life in a fight that wasn’t his. He realized that Heath’s ultimatum in the barn was most likely bravado and bluster and suddenly didn’t believe Heath really would have gone through with his threat. Besides, he couldn’t believe any man that cold-hearted would have hands that shook so much after a firefight that he couldn’t roll himself a smoke. Jarrod still didn’t know what to think about their physical relationship, but Heath was his brother, just like Nick or Gene, and he vowed to do everything he could to make up for what their father had done.

Jarrod walked slowly over to his brother and one-time lover, pulled a cigar out of his pocket and held it out.

Heath looked up and cautiously accepted the offering. He bit the end off the cigar before looking again at Jarrod and their blue eyes met before they gazed back over the field of dead.

“Too many good men,” Heath said, echoing Jarrod’s earlier thoughts.

Jarrod looked over the field again. Nick was helping Nettie take care of her slain husband and Gene was helping Sig carry the sheriff’s body to the house. But maybe something good could still come out of this day, an affirmation of life and family. He turned back to Heath. “Come home with us, Heath.”

 

Heath raised an eyebrow at the gesture. He honestly hadn’t thought that Jarrod would give in to his demands and again felt guilty for making them. “Jarrod, you should know that I was never going to go through with it. The blackmail, I mean.”

Jarrod nodded. “I suspected as much when you rode up this morning.” There was silence for a moment before he spoke again. “There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re Tom Barkley’s son, Heath. We just have to convince our brothers and find a way to break it to Mother.” He fixed Heath with a stern look. “I won’t have her hurt, any more than can be helped.”

Heath agreed. She was a kind and gracious lady and reminded him a lot of his own mama. Then he met Jarrod’s eyes again. “And Jarrod? I’m sorry for what I did, back there in the barn.”

Jarrod gave him a wry grin and sat down beside Heath. He struck a match, lit his own cigar and then lit Heath’s. “It’s not like I was complaining.”

“But it still shouldn’t have happened like that. I don’t know what came over me.” Heath tried to meet Jarrod’s eyes but found he couldn’t.

“Water under the bridge, Heath.” They smoked in silence for a moment before Jarrod got to his feet and held out his hand. Heath let Jarrod help him to his feet and they walked together over to their brothers and the second battle of the day.

 

Jarrod shut the door wearily behind him. It had been a long, trying day and in spite of his protests to the contrary, his arm hurt like hell where he’d been shot. But in spite of his distaste for the carnage that morning, he’d done what he needed to do. Jarrod’s injunction was upheld and the railroad had backed down for the time being. He’d also made his peace with Heath and the only one who still had any objections to Heath’s right to the Barkley name was Nick. Jarrod sighed as he sat on the bed and took off his boots. It was going to be a battleground around the ranch for the next little while but Jarrod had faith in his brother’s heart and his love for family. Nick would come around.

He unbuttoned his shirt with his good hand, eased his injured arm carefully out of the sleeve and looked up at the sound of footsteps.

“I could help you with that,” Heath offered, closing and locking the door quietly behind him. “Don’t worry, no one saw me.” He sat beside Jarrod, helped him take off his shirt and ran his hand across Jarrod’s chest and down his belly. “And your room’s at the corner of the house, no one should hear us either.” Heath tugged at the fastenings of Jarrod’s pants.

Jarrod inhaled sharply when Heath’s hand delved into his pants and squeezed his cock. “Doesn’t it bother you that we’re brothers?” he asked quietly, but he didn’t even try to stop him as Heath pushed his hand deeper into Jarrod’s pants. 

Heath did pause though. “Not really,” he answered. “Men, brothers, I reckon we’re gonna burn in Hell for either of them, so why bother denying ourselves?” He leaned in and gave Jarrod a hard kiss. “Does it bother you?”

Jarrod shrugged but made no move to pull away. “I don’t know,” he admitted. It obviously didn’t bother his dick at all; it was already at attention and ready for action. “I think the thing that bothers me most is how much I want your cock up my ass.”

Heath grinned. “And that’s a problem?” he teased, pushing Jarrod back onto the bed and pulling off his pants. “Always happy to oblige.”

That comment went straight to Jarrod’s groin and he gave up trying to think. Heath ran his hand over Jarrod’s engorged member before standing up and taking off his own clothes. Jarrod couldn’t take his eyes off the hard shaft sticking out from Heath’s body.

“I think I’ve got something you want,” Heath drawled with a grin. He pulled a small bottle from his pocket before tossing his clothes over a chair. “Came prepared this time.”

Jarrod’s breathing quickened as Heath poured some of the bottle’s contents over his hand and slicked up his cock. Then he crawled onto the bed, knelt between Jarrod’s legs and hooked his hands under Jarrod’s knees to spread them wide. Jarrod held his legs up as Heath grabbed his cock and pushed ever so slowly inside. Jarrod closed his eyes, relishing every inch as it went deeper. Firmly embedded in Jarrod’s ass, Heath leaned over, bent Jarrod almost double and kissed him hungrily,

“This way I can see your face when I make you cum,” Heath told him with a lascivious grin as he pushed back up to his knees. He grabbed Jarrod’s thighs and used them for leverage as he started to thrust. Jarrod moaned in pleasure.

 

“Fuck, Heath, harder,” he groaned. Heath didn’t hesitate to oblige; he picked up speed and watched the carnal enjoyment on Jarrod’s face. Jarrod reached down to stroke his own cock and the sight of him pleasuring himself while being fucked inflamed Heath’s lust even more. He bent over Jarrod again and bit and sucked on his chest until he knew he’d left a mark. Then he pounded into him harder and faster until Jarrod’s seed covered his hand, his belly and some had even splashed as far as his chest. Damn, he was even hotter wearing his own cum and as Heath felt his own climax approaching, he pulled out and held his cock so his semen splattered across Jarrod’s face. Now that was a sight Heath would never get tired of; his immaculate older brother sweaty and dishevelled by sex and covered with cum.

Jarrod looked at him in surprise. Heath leaned over and licked a drop off Jarrod’s cheek. “Now that is just the way I like you,” he drawled. He got off the bed, pulled on his clothes and peeked carefully out the door before opening it all the way. “You might want to clean yourself up,” he suggested with a wink before he slipped out and closed the door behind him.

 

Jarrod didn’t get up right away. He just lay there, catching his breath and marvelling at the sensations. He was sated in a way only Heath had been able to do for him and he could feel the sticky strands of cum on his face. Tentatively, he licked at the semen on his upper lip. It was sticky and salty and tasted like Heath. Jarrod swiped the rest off his face and looked at the milky substance on his fingers before he sucked it all off slowly. Now he knew the answer to his question from their first encounter; if Heath came in his mouth, Jarrod would swallow it greedily and work for more. With that thought in his mind, Jarrod rolled over and shut his eyes, not even bothering to clean off the drying semen splattered across his body.


	7. Chapter 7

Heath tallied up the number of beeves and tucked the notebook and pencil back into his pocket. The sun was starting to sink and Heath figured if he headed back to the ranch now, he’d have time for a leisurely bath before dinner. He clucked to his horse and the big bay stepped out eagerly.

Heath marvelled at his change in fortune. Three square meals a day, hot baths and clean clothes, a fast, blooded horse between his legs and his dick between the legs of another type of stallion whenever his oldest brother was home. Heath shifted in the saddle at the rush of blood to his groin. Jarrod hadn’t been home very often since the gunfight with the railroad; he’d been in San Francisco or up in the capitol ensuring that no one would try to strong-arm the farmers off their land again but he was due home that evening and Heath couldn’t wait to slake his lust in that hot, tight ass. He hoped the journey wasn’t too tiring for the lawyer; it had been a while and Heath planned to fuck Jarrod until the sun came up.

A loud bawl got his attention and Heath pulled Charger to a stop. The sound came again, louder and more frantic. He soon spotted the source; a big cow was stuck in a muddy waterhole and her calf was on the edge, running back and forth bawling. Heath sighed. There went his chance for a long soak.

It was well after dark when he got home, covered in mud and cursing the stupidity of cattle. But the dim-witted animals were the lifeblood of the ranch and Heath didn’t really regret the mud and effort as he led Charger into the barn. The big cutting horse had done his job well and even though Heath was tired and hungry, he was going to make sure the hard-working animal was clean, comfortable and well-fed before he sought his own dinner.

A lamp was already lit in the barn. He was tired enough that it didn’t really register who was in there with him until his nose caught the familiar scent of cigars and aftershave. Charger whickered at the horse in the stall beside him and reached over to touch noses with Jingo. 

Jarrod winked at his brother as he gave the sorrel’s back one more swipe with the brush. “We both got home late, I see.” The deep baritone sent a shiver up Heath’s spine.

“Reckon so.” He pulled off Charger’s saddle and Jarrod came around with a bucket of water.

“Let me give you a hand.”

Four hands made short work of getting the big bay comfortable. They made small talk about their days and what had been happening around the ranch while they brushed Charger clean. Heath had just finished pouring a measure of oats into the feed bin when Jarrod came back into the stall and sank to his knees in front of him. Heath was too surprised to say anything as Jarrod unbuttoned his pants, reached in and grasped his slowly swelling cock. “Jarrod…” he finally managed to get out, but Jarrod just looked up with a devilish glint in his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this all the way home,” he said huskily. He took Heath into his mouth and when he slowly started moving, Heath was in heaven.

 

Jarrod had been thinking about sucking Heath’s cock for longer than the journey back to Stockton, he’d just never been able to bring himself to actually do it again. He’d tasted Heath’s cum more than once; Heath liked seeing him with it all over his face and it gave Jarrod an illicit thrill to be so debased so he didn’t complain.

He worked his mouth further down Heath’s shaft, his tongue licking up the underside while he sucked. His own cock stiffened from the feel of Heath hot and hard against the roof of his mouth and Jarrod had to wonder if just the act of bringing Heath off might do the same for him as well. He hadn’t cum in his pants since his early teens when he’d come across some of the ladies from the saloon skinny-dipping in a local pond; they’d invited him to join them but he’d been too embarrassed. He’d still be embarrassed if it happened now, but the idea gave him a perverse enjoyment at the same time.

Heath’s breathing grew loud and harsh; Jarrod could feel him swell even more. He started to pull out, but Jarrod grabbed his ass and didn’t let him. Heath responded by grabbing Jarrod’s hair tightly and forcing his head against the side of the stall. Instead of him pleasuring Heath, Heath was now fucking his mouth and Jarrod gagged when Heath’s cock slid into his throat. But Jarrod still tried to suck even with Heath partially blocking his air and his diligence was rewarded with stream after stream of hot, sticky cum. He choked and swallowed and sucked, Heath’s hips mashed against his face, trying to get air and every last drop at the same time, and then he felt the unmistakable tightening in his own balls. Jarrod grunted around Heath’s cock and thrust involuntarily as his pants filled with his own release. Gasping for air, he continued to nuzzle Heath’s spent member after Heath pulled out and finally rested his cheek against the softening organ.

 

Heath ran his fingers through Jarrod’s hair. Fuck, that had been incredible. He never thought Jarrod would willingly go down on him like that and suck up his semen like a greedy calf. “Here, let me finish you off.” He knelt down beside Jarrod and raised an eyebrow at Jarrod’s blush.

“Already taken care of,” Jarrod muttered softly, not meeting his eyes. 

Heath glanced down and raised an eyebrow at the large wet spot on the front of Jarrod’s trousers. For a grown man to cum in his pants like that without even being touched, that was unexpected, but it suited Heath to a T. His big brother was more of a slut than he’d originally thought.

“So I see. Better button up your jacket to cover that.” He could tell Jarrod was a bit embarrassed and grinned at him to alleviate the awkwardness. 

Jarrod finally grinned back. “Better put that back in your pants,” the older brother advised the younger with a gesture to the now limp member hanging out. “Don’t want to scare the ladies.”

Heath chuckled. “Can’t have that now, can we?”

Both men stood and put their clothes in order. Jarrod grabbed his saddlebags from where he’d left them outside Charger’s stall, slung them over his shoulder and the brothers walked companionably into the house.

“Look what I found in the barn,” Heath announced as they entered the foyer.

“Jarrod, welcome home.” Victoria came over from the parlour. She took Jarrod’s face between her hands and kissed his cheek.

Jarrod kissed her back and gave her a hug. “Glad to be home, lovely lady.”

Nick came up behind her and eyed Heath critically. “And what happened to you? We were expecting you over an hour ago.”

Heath gave his rancher brother a slight smile. “A cow and a mudhole, Nick,” he answered, taking off his hat and gunbelt. “Good thing Jarrod was in the barn to give me a hand with Charger or I’d still be getting the mud off of him.” He gave Jarrod a knowing look and Jarrod just smiled back.

“I’ll tell Silas to put dinner on while you two clean up and get changed.” Victoria turned and walked in the direction of the kitchen.

Nick flicked some mud off Heath’s sleeve. “There should still be lots of hot water if the two of you share. Now hurry up, I’m starving.”

Jarrod pushed Heath in the direction of the stairs with a chuckle. “You heard the man. We’d better get moving before he faints from hunger.”

“Darned right,” Nick called after them with a laugh.

“Don’t reckon sharing’s gonna make us faster,” Heath said lewdly when they got out of earshot. He grabbed Jarrod by the arm, pulled him into the bathing room and locked the door behind them. “Drop ‘em, counsellor, and bend over the sink.”

Jarrod shook his head in amusement and complied. His earlier orgasm had provided some relief, but it was nothing like the real thing. He closed his eyes and remembered the feeling of Heath climaxing down his throat. That had been incredible and he wondered if he could work up the nerve to ask Heath to do the same for him. He’d paid whores for that service a few times, but he didn’t think the experience would compare at all to what Heath could do to him.

He heard Heath turn on the tub. “So no one gets suspicious,” the blond cowboy drawled, unbuttoning his own pants and coming up behind Jarrod. He reached around as Jarrod braced his arms against the sink, grabbed the bar of soap and slid it between Jarrod’s buttocks to slick him up. Then Heath’s cock was buried all the way to the hilt and Jarrod had to catch his breath. Heath met Jarrod’s eyes in the mirror as he started thrusting. “Damn, Jarrod, I don’t know which I like better, your ass or your mouth.”

Heath’s face was full of concentration and Jarrod couldn’t tear his eyes away. Every sharp jab of Heath’s cock into his ass sent a jolt of ecstasy through him and then Heath moved his head in closer. 

“I think just the idea of having my dick in your ass can get you off,” Heath breathed into his ear. “I want to watch you cum, Jarrod.” He nipped at the side of Jarrod’s neck, driving even harder into his ass. “I want to see your face when you cum just from me fucking your ass and nothing else.”

Heath’s words and the hot breath on his neck tipped Jarrod over the edge. He shuddered, grunting as his cock expelled its seed in a thick stream as he proved Heath right.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Heath muttered. He picked up the tempo even more, driving harder and faster until shot his load into Jarrod. 

Pulling out, Heath left Jarrod hunched over the sink, trying to catch his breath. Jarrod heard the rustling of fabric and then jumped when something solid was shoved into his ass. 

“What the devil…?” he yelped. His muscles were closed around the object, holding it firmly.

“Carved and oiled it especially for you.” Heath gave him a salacious wink. He squeezed one of Jarrod’s buttocks. “This way nothing’ll leak out and you’ll know I’m still inside you until I can have you again.”

Jarrod gulped and nodded. The thought of being plugged up so Heath’s semen would remain inside him was lewd, wicked and incredibly arousing. And Heath’s comment of again…

Heath handed him a wet cloth before turning off the tub. “Clean up. We don’t want ol’ Nick up here wondering what’s taking us so long.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Jarrod agreed as he took the cloth from Heath and wiped his sperm off the floor. He didn’t have to worry about himself; Heath had very neatly taken care of that. “I’m gonna go change. I’ll let you finish washing up.”

 

Dinner was an interesting experience. Jarrod was acutely aware that the plug in his ass was keeping Heath’s seed inside him and it was hard not to squirm. He confirmed that the Supreme Court had upheld the farmers’ rights, gave everyone an update on Eugene’s studies and then pleaded fatigue from long days and the trip home so he had an excuse not to contribute much else to the dinnertime conversation. Listening to the talk around the table, he was pleased to discover that Nick had finally accepted Heath as a partner around the ranch; he and Heath were discussing what sort of stallion they were going to buy to improve the bloodline when they went to the stock auction in a couple of days.

The talk of breeding programs, however, did nothing to ease Jarrod’s discomfort. Instead of stallions and mares, his dirty mind provided images of being mounted by Heath, which in turn only made his pants tight and the plug in his butt more noticeable.

But it didn’t end there. Nick suggested a friendly game of pool after dinner, Heath readily agreed and Jarrod figured he should follow suit. Bending over the table only increased the delicious pleasure when the plug in his ass moved slightly and it wasn’t long until Jarrod scratched the cue ball and bowed out of the game.

Watching Heath in the same position gave Jarrod other ideas. The fit of his pants made his ass stand out beautifully and Jarrod couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his dick in there instead. He didn’t think it was likely that Heath would agree to such a thing, though. It was one thing to take it up the ass when one was a fancy lawyer with lily-white hands as Nick liked to tease him; it would be quite another when the man in question was a tough, virile cowboy like either of his brothers. 

Jarrod sighed. Yes, being the one fucked instead of the one doing the fucking was probably what others would expect of him if they knew he liked sex with men, even though didn’t think of himself as a sissy just because he loved being pinned down with Heath’s hard cock thrusting into him. But even though he was as good with his fists and his gun as his brothers, he knew others sometimes saw him as not quite as strong and capable as the men who worked the ranch.

His mother must have caught the sigh since she walked over and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Jarrod? Is something bothering you?”

Jarrod gave her a disarming smile. “Not at all, lovely lady. Just tired is all, like I said at dinner. I think I’ll go up and try to get a good night’s sleep.”

“All right.” She gently kissed his cheek. “Good night, dear.”

“Night, Mother.” Jarrod turned to his brothers. “Don’t stay up too late, boys.”

He was sure Heath caught his double meaning as his blond brother lifted a suggestive eyebrow. “Need your beauty sleep, big brother?”

“No, but it couldn’t hurt Nick,” Jarrod retorted and ducked out of the room before the cue chalk hit him.

Jarrod folded his clothes neatly and lay them on the chair before crawling into bed. He didn’t touch the plug, even though most of his attention was focused on it. He liked the idea that Heath’s essence was still inside him. His dick did too and Jarrod rubbed it gently to strengthen his arousal. He was a bit surprised at himself; ever since Heath had become part of the family he hadn’t used his hand to satisfy himself once. In some way, he now regarded it all as Heath’s, as though Heath was the only one with the right to his pleasure. Not that he felt Heath owned him. He was still his own man, but it somehow didn’t seem right to please himself without Heath.

Jarrod wondered if his brother felt the same way. For all he knew, Heath could be fucking a few of the ranch hands on the side or even visiting the girls at the saloon. He didn’t own Heath any more than Heath owned him, but it wounded Jarrod a little to consider it just the same. You’re being fucked by your brother, he told himself sternly, there’s no way that it should be anything other than pure physical release.

His reverie was broken by the sound of the door. He’d left the lamp on; it seemed both of them preferred to be exposed to the other rather than cloaking their actions in shadows. He’d left the covers off so Heath could see him when he arrived; now that Heath was here, Jarrod slowly resumed stroking his cock. 

Heath leaned against the doorframe. “Reckon you’ve got yourself well in hand. I’ll just wait until you’re done.”

“I wasn’t planning on…” Jarrod protested, but Heath just shook his head, the grin never leaving his lips.

“Uh, uh, Jarrod.” Heath pulled the chair around and straddled it. “Now I want to watch you get yourself off.”

Jarrod nodded, but he wasn’t sure he could with someone watching. Self-abuse made one mad or caused one to go blind; that was the prevailing thought of the day. Not that Jarrod believed any of it, he’d pleasured himself more times than he could count, but that was only when he was alone.

He closed his eyes to concentrate better on the motions of his hand. A squeeze there, yes, now pull like this, long and hard. Hand on the balls, give them a squeeze of their own. Grab the tip like that, fingers flicking the rim, oh yeah. Jarrod worked his hand exactly the way he liked and then cracked his eyes open slightly. Heath was leaning forward intently, teeth grazing his bottom lip and face flushed with excitement. Jarrod closed his eyes again in satisfaction. It seemed his fear of being unable to perform with an audience was needless. He continued to stroke himself and knew it wouldn’t be long. That hot feeling at the base, balls drawing tight, almost there… Jarrod yelped when his hand was pulled away.

“Heath!” he protested.

Heath only smirked. “My turn. Don’t want to wear you out too soon.” He stood and stripped off his clothes. “Elbows and knees, ass in the air, big brother,” he demanded. Jarrod did as he was told. He sucked a breath of air in sharply when Heath pulled out the plug and jumped when Heath bit down hard on his buttocks several times. He shivered when Heath licked around his opening before he grabbed Jarrod’s hip with one hand, his cock with the other and shoved it balls deep into Jarrod’s ass.

 

Jarrod moaned and writhed beneath him as he fucked him hard and Heath loved it. “You are just the finest piece of ass,” he told his brother as he drove his cock in and out. He also loved how Jarrod did exactly what was asked of him with no question and how he took everything Heath gave him and still wanted more. He didn’t think anyone would ever believe how submissive the great Jarrod Barkley was in bed or the noises he made when he was fucked. The whimpers and moans and the soft exclamations of, “please Heath,” were like the finest music to his ears. Sure, you could pay a whore to act like that, but Jarrod wasn’t doing this because he was being paid to, he was doing it because he was likely the most shameless slut Heath had ever fucked, man or woman. Heath hadn’t realized how much better sex was with someone he cared about until he met Jarrod; he’d never wanted to please anyone more than he wanted to please Jarrod and made sure to follow Jarrod’s cues to give him just what he seemed to want. 

Feeling Jarrod tense, Heath knew he was going to cum again without anything touching his cock. He slammed into Jarrod over and over as his brother grunted and spasmed with his orgasm. Finally his own cock pulsed and Heath shuddered with his climax. 

“Heath, god…” Jarrod was shaking and Heath pushed him onto his back to kiss him hard.

“I just love how easy it is for my dick to make you cum,” Heath drawled, pulling on Jarrod’s bottom lip with his teeth. “How many times do you think you can do that?”

“Heath, it’s been three times already this evening,” Jarrod reminded him. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Heath gave him a sly grin. “Don’t worry, I think I’ve got enough for both of us.” 

 

Jarrod lost count how many loads of Heath’s semen were deposited in his ass or splattered across his body over the course of the night. He’d only heard of men with that kind of stamina and always figured it was just idle boasting. But Heath was more randy than a stallion at stud and when his endurance flagged, he told Jarrod to work him with his hands or mouth until he was ready for another round. Jarrod had long since expelled every drop of semen he had, but each time Heath’s cock brought him to orgasm was more and more painful.

Finally, even Heath had enough and he collapsed on top of Jarrod. “Boy howdy, Jarrod, you are the best fuck a man could ever have.”

Jarrod couldn’t answer; his ass burned and his cock was throbbing and he was sure he’d practically yelled himself hoarse, even with trying to keep quiet so the rest of the household didn’t hear. He felt Heath get off the bed and heard him get dressed. “Reckon you can get an hour or so of sleep yet. See you at breakfast.” He heard the click of the lock and then he was alone.


	8. Chapter 8

The tension around the dinner table was so thick, Jarrod could almost taste it. Not that it was any different from any other dinner since Nick left without a word almost three weeks ago. He glanced over at Heath, whose attention was fixed on his meal. Something had been bothering him ever since he and Nick returned home after buying that stallion and it wasn’t hard for Jarrod to tell Nick was in some sort of trouble. The nagging ache in his gut started a few days before his brothers got back and it hadn’t left since. 

Jarrod sensed his mother’s eyes on him and slowly took a bite, but if anyone had asked, he couldn’t have told them what he was eating. Again he looked over at Heath. He’d asked a few times if he knew what was wrong with Nick, if he could shed any light on his brother’s surly behaviour or his subsequent disappearance, but Heath only said that there was nothing he could tell him.

Not that the tension or the lack of communication hindered their sex life. In an abandoned shed, an unoccupied loft, even behind a stack of bales in the barn, any place Heath could get his pants down and his dick up Jarrod’s ass he did just that. They’d almost been caught one time, but Heath had just clamped a hand tightly over his brother’s mouth and continued to fuck him uninterrupted while whoever it was remained oblivious. But there was a desperation to their encounters that made the fucking more ruthless and all-consuming, as though they were both trying to exorcise the demons their worry for Nick had created.

“What is it, Audra?”

His mother’s voice caused Jarrod to look up. Audra was staring sadly at her plate.

“Chicken creole,” she said softly, “Nick’s favourite.”

Jarrod suddenly had trouble swallowing and looked back at his food. He knew as well as Audra how much Nick loved chicken creole, even though he’d always tried to deny it since it wasn’t beef.

“Wouldn’t you think he’d at least write or something?” Audra continued. “I mean, he’s been gone for weeks!”

“Oh, he’ll be back soon. The yearling sale ended yesterday, didn’t it Jarrod?”

Jarrod looked up and his mother’s hopeful expression tore into him. “Yes, yes it did.” Not that Jarrod believed that Nick had really gone to the sale. Involuntarily, he looked over to Heath. Heath was staring at nothing.

“When he comes home, I’m not even going to talk to him,” Audra pouted.

“Excuse me.” Heath abruptly set his napkin on the table and left the room without waiting for a response. Jarrod watched him go.

Audra didn’t seem to notice the trouble her brothers were having with the conversation. “Well, anyway, if he thinks he can just leave…”

Jarrod suddenly couldn’t sit around the table anymore and pretend that Nick was just gone on a horse-buying trip. “Audra, eat your dinner,” he ordered before he looked over at his mother. “Excuse me too, please.” He got up just as abruptly as Heath and followed his brother out of the room.

Hearing the front door close, Jarrod went outside. He didn’t see Heath but he had an idea where he’d gone. More and more often since Nick had left, Jarrod would find his brother watching the black stallion they’d brought back, either leaning over the corral or by his stall when the animal was moved into the barn.

Sure enough, a lamp was lit in the barn and Jarrod saw Heath, fists clenched and head on his arm. Jarrod walked up and placed a hand on Heath’s shoulder. “Heath…”

Heath’s head came up and Jarrod saw the anguish on his face. “Jarrod, I can’t tell you what you want to know. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.” He pulled out of Jarrod’s grip and paced a few steps away.

Jarrod wanted to yell at him, to demand to know what Nick wouldn’t tell him and what it seemed that Heath couldn’t. Something had happened and it cut him deeply that Nick didn’t mention a word to his big brother, the man he’d called ‘Pappy’ since before he was ten. Even worse, Jarrod knew Nick had extracted a promise from Heath not to say anything and that promise was causing Heath almost as much pain as Jarrod was suffering knowing that Nick didn’t feel he could confide in him.

So instead of doing what his heart cried out for, Jarrod did the next best thing. He stepped up to Heath, pulled his head around and kissed him roughly.

Heath took that for the invitation it was. He grabbed Jarrod while their mouths devoured each other and pushed him back into the shadows as his strong fingers tore at the buttons on Jarrod’s shirt. Jarrod stumbled when he ran into a pile of feed sacks and Heath didn’t waste any time pushing him down, ripping his trousers open and pulling them off Jarrod’s hips before flipping him roughly so he was face down against the sacks.

Heath must’ve grabbed something, some axle grease or saddle oil, because a slick hand swiped between his buttocks. Even though he’d initiated it, he wasn’t ready when Heath’s hard cock violated his ass and Jarrod bit back a cry of pain. He knew the hurt wouldn’t last long; he could already feel the start of the burning pleasure that would soon overtake him and besides, the physical pain helped him forget the emotional, at least for the moment.

Heath bit down on the juncture of his shoulder and neck and this time, Jarrod couldn’t contain a whimper at the stab of pain. But he didn’t do anything; Heath had him firmly pinned to the sacks, his hand had almost a death grip on Jarrod’s cock and Jarrod desperately needed the release he knew was coming.

 

Heath knew he was hurting Jarrod, but he also knew the other man was strong enough to throw him off if he wanted to. He was sickened by what keeping his promise to Nick was doing to his brother and the rest of the family and fucking Jarrod was the only thing that would take that, and the knowledge that Nick was likely dying away from everyone who loved him, from his mind, however temporarily and however wrong it was. He suspected it was the same for Jarrod, knowing Nick was in trouble but not knowing anything else, and drove harder into Jarrod’s ass. He bit down on Jarrod’s shoulder as he jerked his brother off roughly and thought he tasted blood, but couldn’t care. Raw lust was building in his body and he pounded harder when he felt Jarrod stiffen and the hard cock in his hand pulse to eject its seed across the sacks. His own climax broke over him like a wave and he stabbed into Jarrod with short, sharp thrusts until it subsided.

Heath pulled out and refastened his pants. Getting to his feet, he walked away without another word. He couldn’t bear to see the look of hurt and betrayal in Jarrod’s eyes.

 

Jarrod lay gasping for air. His orgasm had hit him hard, his ass and shoulder were throbbing and he was finding it hard to move. He looked up to see Heath leave the barn and a surge of anguish went through him. He knew the situation with Nick was hurting Heath too, but to have Heath just use him like that and walk away…

Jarrod chastised himself for feeling that way. Heath was a man and his brother. He shouldn’t have any expectations of the same kind of comfort a man might give the woman he loved. It was simply lust and physical release he and Heath shared, that was all. But even though he knew he shouldn’t, Jarrod still had a terrible longing for Heath to show him some of that sort of affection when they were together and wished they could comfort each other in their fear for Nick instead of only venting their frustrations through brutally rough sex.

He winced at the pain in his shoulder as he pushed himself up and cringed at the sight of blood on his shirt. He’d have to clean where Heath’s teeth sank into his skin if he didn’t want it to get infected. 

Jarrod slowly got to his feet and pulled up his pants. There was nothing he could do about anything. Heath would never break his word and Jarrod had no idea where to start looking for Nick. They would all just have to endure until Nick returned on his own. Jarrod refused to give in to the thought that Nick might never come back at all.

*

Heath crossed off the number in his book. 59 days. If Dr. Borland was right, Nick was likely dead already. Nick told him that he didn’t want the rest of the family to die with him, but the not knowing was slowly killing them all anyway, especially Jarrod. Heath could see it every time his brother looked at him or at anything that reminded him of Nick. He hadn’t realized before just how close Jarrod was to his younger brother. He’d seen them fight together at Sample’s against the railroad’s hired goons, but Jarrod and Nick had seemed to live separate lives. Nick ran the ranch and Jarrod was in his office in town or off to Sacramento or San Francisco when something called him there.

Heath wondered what he should do. He’d never gone back on his word in his life, but the suffering on Jarrod’s face, combined with his own worry, was almost too much to bear and he was grateful Jarrod hadn’t pushed too hard whenever he’d asked about Nick.

He heard Jarrod’s footsteps before he saw him, could sense the determination in his brother’s stride and knew that Jarrod was done with letting him off easy.

Jarrod perched on the table beside him. “Heath, I’m going to ask you a question and I want a straight answer. You know something about Nick you’re not telling us. What is it?”

Heath’s resolve wavered. If Nick was already dead, did that release him from his promise?

“Heath, you can see what this is doing to us, you can see that it’s tearing Mother and Audra to pieces.”

Heath hated how sad and quiet his normally vivacious sister had become and hurting the woman who’d accepted her husband’s bastard into her home and heart made him feel lower than he’d ever felt in his life. It was just like Jarrod to think about everyone else and not mention his own feelings. Even when they were in bed together, Jarrod rarely asked for anything and generally let Heath do whatever he wanted. Sometimes Heath felt a bit guilty for being selfish, but Jarrod seemed to enjoy himself as well so Heath never said anything.

Jarrod’s voice grew softer. “All right then, can you tell me this. Do you know where Nick is?”

Nick hadn’t made him promise not tell where he’d gone. Heath simply hadn’t thought of that since no one had asked and he truly didn’t know. But Nick had given him a hint, Jeanie in Willow Springs. It wasn’t much but it was a place to start. “I think so.” 

“Then you give him a message for me. You tell him that whatever trouble he’s in, his family has the right to share it with him. That it’s our duty to help him if we can and it’s his duty to let us and he doesn’t have the privilege to change that, do you understand?” The tone of Jarrod’s voice changed and Heath could hear the sorrow. “You tell him to come on home, tell him Pappy says so.”

Heath finally looked at his brother. An unshed tear glistened in Jarrod’s eye. He hadn’t asked Heath to tell him where Nick was, he was entrusting Heath to deliver the message in spite of what he’d kept from all of them for weeks. Heath managed a small grin and a slight nod. Jarrod gave a smile in return but the sadness never left his eyes. 

“I’ll leave right now, Jarrod,” Heath promised after tucking the notebook in his pocket. “I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to bring him home, but I swear I won’t stop looking until I find him.”

“That’s all I can ask, Heath, other than for you keep in touch. I don’t want everyone to be worrying about you too.” 

Heath nodded his agreement and turned to pack for his trip to Willow Springs.


	9. Chapter 9

Jarrod finished the last words on the will he was drawing up, set down his pen and rubbed his eyes. There wasn’t anything urgent left to do; maybe he’d head home early and get some rest.

It had been a trying few months since that wolf had bitten Nick. Jarrod would have never believed that his brother would hide something as important as being given a virtual death sentence from him, but when Heath brought Nick home as he'd promised, he used all of his courtroom skills to pry out of Nick exactly what had happened. Jarrod’s fist clenched involuntarily. He knew it had been hell on Heath too, but to have his brother, his partner and confidant for all his life, keep something that important from him hurt him terribly. The worry and subsequent hurt of knowing that Nick had just walked away to die without a word had taken a toll on him physically as well as mentally and a nap before dinner sounded like a good idea. 

Or maybe Heath would be home and he could have some of his frustration fucked out of him instead. Jarrod had never had as much sex in his life as he’d had since Heath became a member of the family. It had helped him through the time when Nick was gone but there was still one thing lacking in his relationship with Heath and that was any sort of intimacy. Jarrod had never been celibate, even though he hadn’t often actively looked for sex. Over the years he’d been sought out by more than one of the demimonde as a bed partner, but even those women, who were in it more for the material things they could gain from pleasuring a rich man than in the man himself, would cuddle and caress him after they were finished with their exertions. Jarrod had enjoyed those soft moments late at night more than the sex, and even though he now knew he preferred a hard cock to a soft breast and the climaxes Heath brought him to were on a level that transcended any from those other encounters, he still missed the warmth and feelings of affection. But when he was with Heath, they just put on their clothes when they were done and went their separate ways, unless Heath had fucked him in his room. Then he bid Jarrod goodnight once he’d sated himself in Jarrod’s ass and sought his own bed without any other word.

Sighing, he quickly looked back over the papers, set them neatly to the side, stood and stretched. The sex they had was just that, sex; he’d have to do with the closeness they shared as brothers rather than lovers and felt a twinge of jealousy. It was obvious to him that Heath shared a strong bond with Nick; it even might rival what he and Nick had and they’d been brothers their whole lives. 

And if recent events were any indication, Nick had become closer to Heath than to his older brother. Jarrod couldn’t help but suspect that Nick would have told Heath about the rabies even if Heath hadn’t been there when the wolf attacked and that hurt most of all.

Jarrod bid his secretary farewell as he left, still troubled. He greeted the hosteller absently when he retrieved Jingo from the livery and headed for home. Trusting the sorrel to know the way, Jarrod mulled over things in his mind. Could he go on with things the way they were? There was nothing he could do about Nick’s relationship with Heath, even if he wanted to. He was happy that they were developing such a close bond and becoming brothers in more than just name. With them working the ranch together and he at his office, it wasn’t surprising that he felt a bit left out and maybe that was a lot of his problem. Jarrod resolved to spend more time with them, whether working on the ranch or just spending a lazy day fishing at the pond. Maybe that way he could build a relationship with his newest brother that was like the one he used to share with Nick or Nick shared with Heath. Maybe that would lead to some of the intimacy he craved and maybe he could regain some of the closeness that he’d lost with Nick.

 

With Victoria and Audra visiting relatives in Denver, it was just he and his brothers at home for lunch. Nick and Heath started discussing a trip to pick up some Hereford breeding stock from Sonora and Jarrod’s gut clenched. It was on a similar buying trip that Nick had been bitten and he had a sudden urge to go with them. He didn’t have any pressing business for the next week or so and could easily take the time to join his brothers on the trail. It was the perfect opportunity for the three of them to spend some time together.

“You boys like some company?”

Nick and Heath turned to Jarrod.

“You?” Heath asked in obvious surprise.

Jarrod shrugged and smiled. “Why not? A few days of chasing cattle, a little fresh air, sleeping under the stars, it’ll be just like a vacation.”

Nick snorted. “Eating Heath’s beans and getting calluses on those lily-white hands of yours?” he scoffed. “C’mon, Pappy, be serious.”

“It can be pretty hard work, Jarrod,” Heath added. “Nick and I can take care of it, don’t worry about us.”

Jarrod thought about protesting that he’d worked alongside their father same as Nick and still helped out whenever they were short. But before he could say anything, Heath grabbed a roll and stood up.

“We’ve still got at least two miles of broken fence to take care of,” he told Nick and shot Jarrod a wink as he added, “Remember, this is a working ranch.”

Jarrod hoped Heath would take his answering smile at face value and not see the hurt lurking in his eyes from their rejection and lack of faith in his ability to help on the trail. He pushed back from the table. “I’ve got a few things to look over in the study. See you boys at dinner.” He left quickly, trying to ignore his brothers’ discussion of the best route to take on the way home with the cattle.

Jarrod sat at the desk in the study, not really paying attention to the papers in front of him. It was obvious that Nick and Heath shared something that he wasn’t a part of and never would be. In fact, even though it cut him deeply to admit it, they didn’t really need him here. All the legal work he did for the ranch could just as easily be done from his office in San Francisco and it wasn’t like he couldn’t come back and visit from time to time. Nick didn’t need him, he had Heath as a partner and confidant, and as much as it broke his heart, Heath was a good-looking man who could easily find someone else to warm his bed. They might miss him but they didn’t really need him. He felt like a coward for planning to leave, but staying around would hurt more than leaving. Mind made up, Jarrod started gathering the papers he’d need to take with him to San Francisco.

A whinny from outside caught his attention and Jarrod looked up. Out the window he could see a bright bay horse trotting around the corral, stopping and snorting every time he was balked by the fence, and an idea came unbidden to his mind.

 _You’re being foolish,_ Jarrod chided himself and went back to his task until the horse whinnied again.

A couple of the hands had caught the horse the other day and apparently no one had time to break it yet. The idea that he should go out and break the horse himself came back more strongly. If he did that, it might not change his relationship with his brothers, but it might make them give him a little more respect. _It might also break your neck,_ he scolded himself, but immediately discarded that idea. No, he hadn’t broken a horse since before his father died, but he’d done it many times in the past and even if it didn’t prove anything to his brothers, at least he’d prove to himself that he was still capable of the hard work they’d scoffed at him doing. Putting down his pencil, Jarrod headed outside.

 

Heath and Nick finished loading the wagon.

“Jake, you and Hap take the wagon,” Nick said to the two hands assigned to the job. “Heath and I’ll get our horses and meet you there.”

“Will do, boss.” The two men climbed into the wagon and set off as the brothers headed back towards the barn.

They heard the squeal of an angry horse and exchanged glances.

“Reckon we better see what that was about,” Heath observed and Nick nodded his agreement.

They both broke into a run when they rounded the corner of the barn and saw Jarrod crumpled at the edge of the corral, the unbroken horse saddled and snorting at the other end.

“Jarrod!” Nick exclaimed. He jumped over the fence and rushed to his fallen brother. “Jarrod, what the devil…?”

Jarrod moaned slightly but didn’t open his eyes. A large bruise was forming on the side of his head. Heath crouched down beside him and his gut clenched when he looked Jarrod over and saw the bloodstained tear in his brother’s pants and the bit of white bone sticking out below his knee. 

Nick followed Heath’s gaze and winced when he too saw the broken leg. “Damn,” he swore, ripping the bandana off his neck and tying it tightly above the break to staunch the bleeding. “We need to stabilize that leg and get him to the house. Stay with him. I’ll go get help and send someone for the doc.”

Heath nodded. He moved to cradle his brother’s head in his lap as Nick left. Jarrod groaned again and Heath saw his eyelids flicker. “Just lie still, Jarrod,” Heath warned. “Your leg’s broken and we don’t want it getting any worse.” Jarrod’s eyes opened more and Heath couldn’t help adding, “What were you doing trying to ride that horse anyway?”

“Just… trying to prove… not useless,” Jarrod said faintly. “Reckon I did… the opposite.” He tried to sit up and gasped in pain. 

Heath held him down. “Stay put, Jarrod. Nick’s coming with help.”

This time, Jarrod nodded and closed his eyes.

Heath tried not to look at Jarrod’s leg. He’d seen too many of those breaks in the war and more often than not, the leg couldn’t be saved. _But this isn’t a battlefield,_ Heath reminded himself. _There’s got to be a better chance of it healing here._

Heath heard the pounding of hoofbeats as one of the hands rode towards town. Nick came back with Silas in tow.

“What on earth was Mr. Jarrod doing?” Silas demanded as they tied Jarrod’s leg to a couple of thin boards. “He’s a lawyer, he don’t go around breaking horses.”

“You’ll have to ask him,” Nick muttered as he tied the cloth tight. “Silas, you make sure that leg stays still. Heath and I’ll carry him.”

Lifting their brother between them, they took him to the house, up the stairs to his room and set him on the bed.

“We need to get it clean, Nick,” Heath said, taking out his knife and carefully cutting Jarrod’s pants around the break and the splint. “If it gets wound fever…”

Nick nodded, face grim. He knew just as well as Heath how likely it was that Jarrod could lose his leg. “Silas, get some hot water.” Silas nodded and hurried down the stairs while Nick went over to Jarrod’s desk and grabbed a bottle out of a drawer.

“Got your best scotch, Jarrod,” he announced. “Hold him, Heath.” 

Heath rested his weight on Jarrod to pin him to the bed. Not an uncommon position for them to be in, Heath thought grimly, but it was usually for a better reason. “Hold on, Jarrod,” he murmured, “this’s liable to hurt.” Jarrod tensed and cried out when Nick poured the alcohol on the wound to disinfect it and Heath held him tightly, telling him it was going to be okay in an attempt to make himself believe it as well.

Silas brought up the water and they bathed Jarrod’s wound with that as well. After that, all they could do was wait until Dr. Merar got there. Nick tried to get Jarrod to tell him what he was doing trying to ride that horse, but even though they suspected he was awake, Jarrod kept his eyes closed and didn’t acknowledge them.

It seemed like hours before they heard footsteps on the stairs. Dr. Merar immediately set his bag down on the chair so he could inspect Jarrod’s leg. “What happened?” he asked.

Jarrod spoke up for the first time since they brought him in the house. “Stupidity,” he managed. The doctor looked from one brother to another in askance before pulling up Jarrod’s eyelids and checking his pupils.

“He was thrown from a horse,” Heath finally supplied. “We cleaned it as best we could.”

“You did a good job. A slight concussion I think.” Dr. Merar untied the splint, took out a pair of scissors and deftly sliced off Jarrod’s pant leg. Then he reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle and a cloth. “Jarrod, I’m going to need you asleep for this.” He poured some liquid out of the bottle onto the cloth. “This is chloroform. I’m going to hold it over your face and I want you to breathe in deeply.” Jarrod shook his head in a feeble protest. “Jarrod,” the doctor said sternly, “either you cooperate or I’ll have your brothers hold you down and do it anyway. Which will it be?” Jarrod finally closed his eyes and nodded. Dr. Merar held the cloth over his mouth and nose and soon Jarrod’s body went limp.

With Nick and Heath’s help, Dr. Merar liberally dosed the area with iodine and carbolic acid, set the bone and closed the open wound. He bound Jarrod’s leg again to the splints after placing a bandage on his leg and proceeded to take off the rest of Jarrod’s clothes so he could look the rest of him over. His torso was heavily bruised and Dr. Merar pronounced that there were a few broken ribs as well.

“That’s all I can do,” he said after binding Jarrod’s ribs. He drew a blanket over his patient. “It’s hard to say how long he’ll be out, could be a couple of hours. I’ll leave some laudanum for the pain.” He sighed. “I’ll be out tomorrow to check on him. I don’t think I have to tell you boys how serious it could be if his leg gets infected.”

They both nodded. “I’ll see you out, doc,” Nick offered, but Dr. Merar held up his hand.

“No need, Nick, I know the way. Just stay here with Jarrod until he wakes up. He might be a bit disoriented when the chloroform wears off.” 

“Thanks, doc,” both said as the doctor left.

Nick turned the chair around and plopped into it. “Jarrod was sure right about ‘stupidity’,” he groused. “He had no business being on that horse.”

Heath sat carefully on the edge of the bed and didn’t comment. He recalled Jarrod’s words about proving he wasn’t useless and felt a pang of guilt. It was likely the conversation at lunch that drove Jarrod to do what he did and that meant he and Nick were partially responsible. Heath really had no idea if Jarrod was any good at ranch work; just because he’d never seen his oldest brother out on the range didn’t mean he wasn’t capable and Heath should have never dismissed his offer to come with them so readily.

“I think he was trying to prove he was good enough to come on the trip with us,” Heath finally said, his voice quiet.

“Jarrod wouldn’t…” Nick started to protest but then a guilty look came over his face as well. “Damn,” he swore softly. He got to his feet and paced across the room. “If he loses that leg, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“It won’t come to that, Nick,” Heath said firmly, willing himself to believe it as well. “We got it cleaned right away and the doc’s good. He’ll be ready to join us on roundup in a month or so if he wants to.”

Nick nodded, but his expression didn’t change. He sat for a few minutes, got up and paced restlessly and then sat again. He slapped his fist into his hand and got up again.

“Nick, why don’t you go outside for a bit?” Heath suggested. His brother’s pacing was making him twitchy as well.

Nick opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. “Yeah, good idea.” He jabbed a finger in Heath’s direction. “But you call me when he comes to, y’hear?”

“You got it, Nick.”

Nick looked over at his unconscious brother again, clenched his fist and left the room. Heath moved over to the chair and waited silently for any sign that Jarrod was waking up. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there before he heard a low moan. Moving back onto the bed, he smoothed the hair off Jarrod’s forehead.

“Hey, big brother,” he said softly as Jarrod’s eyes flickered open.

“Wh…?”

Heath brushed his fingers over Jarrod’s cheek. “You got thrown. Busted leg, busted ribs and the doc says you have a concussion.”

“Why are you… here?” Jarrod croaked faintly.

Heath gave a small smile. “Reckon someone had to make sure you were flat on your back. Might as well be someone with lots of practice.”

“Never… stay with me.” Jarrod coughed and grimaced in pain. 

Heath grasped Jarrod’s shoulder. “You’re my brother, I’ll always stay with you. Want some water?”

Jarrod head shook slightly. “No, you…” He coughed again. “Don’t care… always leave,” he added softly and Heath noticed the glitter of a tear in his eye. “Good for a fuck, then… you leave. Never stay.” The tear rolled down his cheek as Jarrod closed his eyes.

“Jarrod…” Heath didn’t know what to say, so he just grabbed the bottle of laudanum and poured a spoonful. “Here, you’ve got to be hurting.” And it was all his fault.

Jarrod didn’t protest as Heath helped him lift his head and gave him the laudanum followed by a few sips of water. Then Heath held his hand as Jarrod’s breathing evened out and he went back to sleep.

Jarrod’s words cut him to the core. He’d never considered that leaving for his own room after a hot bout of sex could appear to Jarrod like he didn’t care for him, that all he cared about was burying his cock in Jarrod’s ass. It was hard for him to open up to another; he’d been hurt every time he’d ever told someone his true feelings, and over time he’d just stopped trying, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care. Then he wondered why Jarrod had never said anything before, but maybe Jarrod was just as afraid of rejection as he was. Maybe he just didn’t want to take the chance of hearing that their relationship was really only physical.

And maybe that was one of the reasons Jarrod offered to go to Sonora with them, to feel like he mattered to Heath, and that was why he ended up hurt. Heath was filled with guilt. If he had just once told Jarrod how much having him as a brother and a lover meant to him, maybe Jarrod wouldn’t be lying there. But by trying to protect himself from getting hurt, he’d only hurt someone else instead.

“I’m sorry, Jarrod,” he whispered, gripping his brother’s hand more tightly. “I hope you give me a chance to make it up to you.”


	10. Chapter 10

Heath kept a vigil by Jarrod’s bedside; he owed it to his brother to stay by him. Nick couldn’t keep out of Jarrod’s room either, but he couldn’t just sit there and helped by bringing water and whatever else was needed. Jarrod woke a few times, but the concussion and the painkillers kept him from being completely lucid.

Jarrod developed a fever the next day and Nick immediately fetched Dr. Merar. The doctor examined his restless patient and shook his head.

“It’s too early to say,” he explained as he tucked his stethoscope back in his bag. “He’s likely developing an infection in his leg, but it’s no more swollen than I’d expect from any bad break.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” said Nick. “I mean, you won’t have to…” Nick took a deep breath. “He’ll keep his leg, right?”

“It’s too early,” the doctor repeated. “All you can do right now is try to keep him cool and make sure to give him lots of fluids. If he develops extra heat or any red streaks on that leg…” He sighed. “Call me immediately. Better to lose the leg than his life.”

“Will do, doc, thanks.” Heath turned his attention back to Jarrod as Nick showed Dr. Merar out. “Fight, big brother,” he whispered. “Fight, show me how tough you really are and I’ll do my best to show you how much I care.”

 

Heath and Nick took turns sitting beside their brother, cooling him with wet cloths and keeping a close eye on his leg. They’d sent a telegram to their mother, but a heavy snowfall was preventing the trains from getting through for a few more days. Jarrod’s fever finally broke and both ranchers, plus the doctor, breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed as though his life, as well as his leg, was out of danger. 

Finally Jarrod was sleeping peacefully and Nick felt like he could leave and see to the work around the ranch.

“You take good care of him,” he ordered Heath before he left and Heath grinned.

“Nothing I’d rather do,” Heath replied. He grabbed a sandwich and took it with him up to Jarrod’s room, along with a bridle that needed mending. Dr. Merar said he’d likely sleep for a while longer after fighting off the fever, but Heath needed to be there when Jarrod woke up.

He’d almost finished stitching the browband securely when he heard rustling from the bed. Looking up, Heath saw Jarrod was awake and trying to sit up. He quickly put down the bridle and grabbed Jarrod’s shoulders.

“Easy, big brother, let me give you a hand.” He helped Jarrod move and propped a couple of pillows behind him to give him support.

Jarrod gave him a small smile and a nod of thanks. “Do you have any water?”

“Right here.” Heath poured a glass of water from the pitcher and gave it to Jarrod, who took it with a hand that shook only slightly. He drank it down and handed the glass back to Heath.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Jarrod leaned back on the pillows before asking, “What happened? The last thing I remember clearly,” and he grimaced, “is you and Nick carrying me upstairs after I proved how much of an idiot I am by trying to break that wild horse.”

Heath wondered if Jarrod remembered their conversation, reckoned he probably didn’t and wondered if he should say anything. “You busted your leg pretty bad, got a bit of a concussion and some broken ribs. You ran a real high fever for the last couple days, but the doc says you’re on the mend.” He reached out and grasped Jarrod’s hand. “You had us pretty worried for a while there.”

Jarrod shifted uncomfortably and Heath readjusted the pillows.

“Guess I proved you boys were right,” he said with a sigh.

Heath tightened his grip on Jarrod’s hand. “Jarrod, all you proved was that you got more guts than a lot of men I know. Anyone can get thrown, not many would get on an unbroken horse when they don’t do it for a living.”

Jarrod gave Heath a small smile of gratitude. “I helped out with the breaking and the ranch work all the time before I went into law, but Nick’s probably right when he says I’m getting soft,” he admitted.

“No shame in that,” Heath told him with a grin. “Reckon that only means we should get you out there more often before someone mistakes you for a real daisy.”

“If I weren’t stuck in this bed, I’d call you out behind the barn,” Jarrod threatened, but there was a twinkle in his eyes.

“I can think of better things to do with you behind the barn. And we could definitely prove you aren’t soft.” Then Heath wondered if he should have said that, but Jarrod just chuckled.

“I think it might be a while before I can oblige you.”

But that statement gave Heath an idea, something he could do that was solely for Jarrod. Well not entirely, he’d enjoy it too, but Jarrod would receive the full benefit. “Reckon I can oblige you, though,” he drawled lazily and pulled the covers down slowly.

 

Jarrod caught his breath. He was nude under the covers except for the bandages, likely because it was easier for everyone to take of him while he was unconscious. He glanced down at his wrapped torso and winced at the mottled blue and green he could see on his right leg, but then he gasped when Heath’s mouth wrapped around his cock. “Heath…” The warm heat was exquisite and made his dick start to swell, but injured as he was, he was worried about what Heath’s ultimate intention might be.

Heath sucked a couple more times, bringing his cock to full attention before he moved up to kiss Jarrod’s lips. “As long as I’m not hurting you, Jarrod, let me do this. I reckon you’ve been doing all the giving and I’ve been doing all the taking since we met. It should be more equal and I’m sorry.” He kissed any exposed skin he could find on his way back down to Jarrod’s groin. Then he looked up with a wicked gleam in his eyes that went straight to Jarrod’s cock. “And besides, I can tell how much you want it. This can only be good for you, right?”

Heath turned his attention back to Jarrod’s dick. He took it slow and Jarrod felt a flush of pleasure wash through him. Oh, god, it was just as incredible as he’d imagined. Then he was sure his cock hit the back of Heath’s throat and he gasped. That hurt, the deep breath, not the way Heath was swallowing him, but the twinge of pain was nothing compared to the heaven that was Heath’s mouth. He tried to thrust, but that did send a jolt of agony through his broken leg, so Jarrod just lay still and let Heath take care of him.

One of Heath’s hands started fondling his balls, adding to the pleasure, and then that hand snuck back and a finger worked its way into his ass. “God, Heath, that’s good,” he moaned and Heath just intensified his ministrations. His lips applied more pressure, his finger went deeper to find just the right spot and soon Jarrod’s seed was spurting down Heath’s throat. Heath sucked it down with as much enjoyment as he did when he was doing Heath and Jarrod sunk back into the pillows in satisfaction.

“I take it you liked that?” Heath drawled as he moved up to nestle beside Jarrod.

“Mmm hmm.” Then Jarrod got another surprise when Heath moved the pillows and slid behind him so Jarrod was resting against his chest. Heath wrapped his arms around him and kissed his neck lightly.

“When I saw you lying there in the corral, a part of me died thinking you were gone,” Heath told him softly. “I don’t know what it is about you, Jarrod, but it’s not just the sex. You’ve worked your way into my heart and I don’t know if I could ever be complete again if I lost you.”

Jarrod was stunned at Heath’s words, words he never thought he’d hear. “I’ve wanted you to hold me like this,” he admitted when he got over the shock. “The sex is incredible, but this is something I wanted but didn’t think I could ever have.” He relaxed back into Heath’s arms. 

Heath’s hands caressed his chest above the bandage. “I’m sorry if I made you think I didn’t care.” 

Jarrod was a bit embarrassed. He was starting to suspect he’d said something when he was feverish, but here in Heath’s arms he was too comfortable to really worry about it. 

“The only person who ever really cared about me was my mama, and maybe Rachel and Hannah,” Heath went on. “Reckon I learned not to show it so I wouldn’t get hurt. Not much of an excuse, though.”

Jarrod’s ribs complained when he turned to face Heath, but he needed to do it anyway. “It’s all right, Heath,” he said and gave Heath a soft kiss. “You’re more than just my brother; I’ll always care and I’ll do everything I can to avoid hurting you.” The relieved look on Heath’s face went straight to Jarrod’s heart and he chided himself for making an assumption about Heath’s motives without talking to him. It wouldn’t be easy being lovers and brothers both, but he had faith they could be whatever they wanted. Then he heard a low rumble from his stomach that made Heath chuckle.

“Hungry?”

“A little,” Jarrod admitted with a sheepish grin. Heath careful extracted himself out from behind Jarrod and pulled up the blankets after he got to his feet. 

“I’ll go see what there is in the kitchen and be right back.” He went to the door, turned and winked. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Jarrod relaxed back against the pillows when the door closed, more content than he’d been for a while.

Heath came back with some soup that Silas had waiting and they spent an enjoyable half-hour talking, eating and making plans for some time together, just them and with Nick after Jarrod’s leg healed. Heath took the dishes back down to the kitchen and it wasn’t long after he left that Jarrod heard loud strides and the jingle of spurs. He braced himself for the force of nature that was Nick.

“Hey, Jarrod, Heath said you were up,” Nick announced with a big grin as he came into the room. “How’re you feeling?”

“Sore and foolish.” Jarrod sighed.

Nick plopped down in the chair by the bed. “Jarrod, whatever made you do such a damn fool thing? You almost broke your neck!” 

Jarrod shook his head. “It’s not important.”

“Not important?” Nick ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “When you almost kill yourself, you damned well better believe it’s important. You better talk to me, Pappy, and now.”

“Like you talked to me when you almost died after being bit by that wolf?” Jarrod retorted bitterly and then wished he could take it back. He’d made an uneasy peace with the fact that Nick didn’t tell him he was dying and he didn’t really want to drag all that up now.

Nick was visibly taken aback. “Jarrod, I told you, I didn’t want you all to have to watch me die.”

“You didn’t want us to watch you die.” Jarrod snorted in disbelief. He may have made some kind of peace with his own feelings, but Nick had hurt everyone else as well. “That’s one of the most selfish things I’ve ever heard. What about what you put Mother and Audra through, not knowing if you were alive or dead? What about Heath, knowing the hell they were going through and not being able to say anything? You don’t think the worry was slowly killing them anyway?” 

“Jarrod…” Nick reached out to him, but Jarrod didn’t want to say anything else. He’d already said more than he’d intended and closed his eyes.

“My head’s hurting again, I’m going to take a rest.” And with that he turned away.

 

Heath went out to the barn with a lighter heart. Jarrod was going to be okay and it was a weight off his mind that he’d told his brother how he felt. He smiled as he remembered Jarrod’s words, _I’ll always care._ Brother and lover weren’t two things easily reconciled, but Heath was determined to make it work. It wouldn’t have been the same if they’d grown up together, but they hadn’t and something more had happened between them.

Replacing the repaired bridle with the other tack, Heath started checking to see if anything else needed mending. He heard the jingle of spurs and turned to find Nick standing behind him with an uncomfortable look on his face.

“Hey,” his brother greeted.

Heath eyed his uneasy expression. “Hey, Nick, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Heath knew there was something, but he also knew the best way to get Nick to open up was to keep quiet. “Whatever you say, Nick.” He turned back to the tack.

“Heath, do you think I’m selfish?”

Heath didn’t know what he’d expected to hear, but that wasn’t it. He kept his eyes on the harnesses as he asked, “Why’re you asking?” Stubborn and prideful, yes, but selfish wasn’t a word he normally associated with Nick Barkley.

“I dunno, something Jarrod said, I guess.” There was a long pause. “I hurt everyone when I went off to Silver Springs, didn’t I?”

Heath thought back to those weeks, to the silence around the dinner table and the pain he saw in Jarrod every time their eyes met. Their nightly encounters were harsh and almost desperate, Jarrod trying not to ask and Heath unable to alleviate his family’s or his brother’s suffering due to his promise to Nick. He remembered what else Jarrod had said, that Nick didn’t have the privilege of not letting them share whatever trouble he was in. He recalled the look on Jarrod’s face when he admitted he knew where Nick was and realized it wasn’t only that Nick had gone away that hurt their oldest brother, it was also that Nick hadn’t confided in him, in the man he called Pappy.

“Yes, Nick, you did,” Heath told his brother bluntly. “If there’s one thing I know about family, it’s that they help each other and you took that away from all of us.”

There was pain in Nick’s eyes that was akin to that in Jarrod’s over those weeks as he sat down heavily on a bale of straw. “I’m sorry, Heath. I realize now I had no right to ask you not to tell the family. I hurt you and I’m sorry.” 

“It’s the rest of the family you should be apologizing to, not me,” Heath said. “I knew what I was doing when I made that promise, but you had no right not to let them help you. And asking that of me hurt Jarrod a whole lot more than anyone else.” Nick looked up at him questioningly. “He’s been your brother your whole life,” Heath explained quietly. “He’s told me how close you were growing up and about when you were trapped in that mine. He’s had your back more times than I know about and you just shut him out, just walked away to die without a word.” Heath shook his head. “No, you owe Jarrod that apology, Nick, not me.”

Nick didn’t say anything and Heath decided to leave him alone with his thoughts. If Nick didn’t like what he said, then so be it. He could take his satisfaction later if he wanted to, but Heath was done with staying silent and hurting those he cared for. He hoped Nick would see it that way too as he left the barn.


	11. Chapter 11

“Comfortable?”

Jarrod shifted closer to Heath. “Very,” he murmured, basking in the afterglow of an incredible orgasm. Jarrod finally convinced Heath that he was well enough for more than just hands and mouths and after propping up his broken leg and using lots of pillows, Heath had entered him for the first time since his injury. They took it slow, Heath unwilling to be too rough until Jarrod was fully healed but even with the slow pace, both men were still sweaty and sated when they were done.

“You feeling okay?”

Jarrod twisted to kiss him. “Never better,” he assured Heath. It had been three weeks since he’d broken his leg, three weeks since he’d been confined to bed with only the occasional foray allowed in a wheelchair. Jarrod closed his eyes and enjoyed being in Heath’s strong arms. His brother had certainly gone out of his way to make being stuck in bed much more pleasant. After everyone else was long asleep, he’d made a habit of sneaking into the downstairs bedroom Jarrod was using during his convalescence and they spent long hours making love to each other. And much to Jarrod’s delight, Heath wouldn’t leave until daybreak, only shortly before the rest of the house woke. “Have I told you how much I enjoy having you here?”

Heath chuckled. “Oh, once or twice.” He returned the soft kiss. “You should’ve said something earlier, Jarrod.”

It was Jarrod’s turn to chuckle. “Heath, you just overwhelmed me so much with sex, I didn’t have time to think about it. Then Nick left…” His demeanour sobered and Heath held him closer.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” Heath whispered. “I should have never made Nick that promise.”

“Heath, you just respected his wishes,” Jarrod argued. “You stood by your principles and no one should feel guilty about that. It was Nick who shouldn’t have asked.”

Heath nuzzled Jarrod’s neck. “Has he said anything to you?”

Jarrod shook his head. “No. I don’t really expect him to, though.” Nick’s visits had been few and far between since he’d been laid up and there was an awkwardness between them that Jarrod didn’t know how to breach.

“He hurt you, Jarrod,” Heath insisted.

“He had other things to worry about,” Jarrod said in his brother’s defence, even though Heath was right. His hand slipped down to stroke Heath’s belly and genitals in an attempt to change the subject. He didn’t wasn’t to spoil their night with talk of something they couldn’t change and was pleased to feel Heath’s cock swell in response. “If you need your sleep, tell me, but it’s still a long way ‘til morning,” he said devilishly and Heath’s hand snaked around to fondle Jarrod’s balls.

“Oh, reckon I’ll get enough rest later,” he drawled and as he moved into a better position to kiss Jarrod more firmly, Jarrod pushed thoughts of how he felt about Nick’s leaving away to concentrate on the pleasures of the moment.

 

Dr. Merar finally gave Jarrod the okay to get out of bed on crutches as long as he took it easy and didn’t go too far, telling him mild exercise could only speed his recovery. It felt good to be outside with the fresh air on his face and as he made his slow way out to the corrals, Jarrod had no intention of going back in until he had to. 

The bay that threw him was moving easily under the saddle and Jarrod leaned against the fence to watch Nick put the horse through its paces. “Looking good, Nick,” he called after his brother dismounted and handed the reins to one of the men.

Nick strode over. “Just as long as you stay off him until he’s fully broke and you’re not,” he ordered.

Jarrod bristled. Anyone could get thrown and Nick knew that just as well as he did. It might have been foolish to try breaking a horse with no one else around, but that didn’t mean he was completely incompetent like Nick was implying. “I’m a big boy, Nick.”

Nick shuffled uncomfortably. “I just meant you shouldn’t be riding with that broken leg,” he said apologetically. “Mother would have all our hides and she wouldn’t let you out of bed again for at least another month.”

“You’re probably right.”

They stood, looking over the ranch buildings and Jarrod could feel the tension. He glanced over at Nick, at the little brother who used to tag along after him, at his partner in crime when they’d sneak out of the house without anyone knowing, at the brother he would have given anything just to know he was alive several weeks ago. He never believed Nick had intentionally set out to hurt him and given what Nick must have felt, knowing he was likely going to die, Jarrod found he could forgive him. That didn’t take away the knowledge that he and Nick had lost some of their closeness with Heath’s arrival, but maybe they could get it back in time. Then he had an idea.

“Maybe you and Heath could spring me for the afternoon,” Jarrod suggested with a wink. “Load me in a wagon, head up to Snyder’s Creek and do a little fishing?”

“Yeah, I think I could manage that.” Nick gave him a relieved grin and Jarrod felt more of the tension ease. “Y’know, Jarrod,” he said after a moment, “I’m sorry for the way I acted, about the wolf and all.”

“Nick, don’t…” Jarrod started to protest but Nick cut him off.

“Reckon you were right, I was being selfish.” Nick’s eyes caught Jarrod’s. “I got so caught up in not wanting to see you all watch me die…” He shook his head and sighed. “ ‘I’m sorry’ just doesn’t seem like it’s enough.”

Jarrod put his hand on Nick’s arm. “It’s okay, Nick, you’re still with us and that’s what matters.”

“Thanks, Pappy, but I had no right to just walk away without a word, especially not to you.”

Jarrod gripped Nick’s arm tighter. “Nick, you’re my brother,” he said firmly. “There’s nothing you can do that I can’t forgive.”

Nick reached up and grabbed Jarrod’s hand. “I don’t deserve brothers like you and Heath and that’s a fact.”

Jarrod chuckled. “No, you don’t,” he teased and Nick cuffed him playfully on the shoulder.

 

True to his word, Nick rounded up Heath, they packed a hearty lunch and a bottle of scotch into a wagon and then smuggled Jarrod out of the house for an afternoon of fishing. They arrived back late in the evening, all rather inebriated. Victoria gave them all a stern lecture, but Jarrod couldn’t help but smile at the indulgent twinkle in her eyes. So when she ordered him back to his bed, he just said, “Your wish is my command, lovely lady,” kissed her cheek and hobbled off to his room.

The fresh air and exercise, not to mention the quantity of alcohol he’d imbibed, all conspired to put Jarrod to sleep quickly. But when he woke in the middle of the night with an urgent need to relieve himself, he found he was wrapped securely in Heath’s arms. Jarrod smiled to himself and tried to ignore the pressure on his bladder as he snuggled closer into Heath’s embrace. It had been a good day and he’d never felt closer to either of his brothers. 

But even though he was loath to leave the comfort of Heath’s body, he couldn’t put off the call of nature any longer. He could have just used the chamber pot, but the moon was shining through the open window and the breeze through the unlatched panes, although a bit chilly, was too inviting to ignore. Jarrod slipped quietly out of the bed, pulled on the pants that were cut to accommodate his splint, grabbed his boots and crutches and went through the kitchen to outside. He didn’t bother to go all the way to the outhouse; he just propped himself securely on his crutches and sighed as he drained his bladder against the corner of the barn.

Tucking himself back into his pants, Jarrod turned at the soft snort behind him. The bay horse was staring at him with curious brown eyes.

“I don’t know if I should thank you or not,” Jarrod told the animal as he hobbled over to the fence. The horse bumped him with its nose and Jarrod rubbed the blaze on its forehead. “Well, reckon you helped me fix things with my brothers, so I guess I’ll thank you. Audra named you Lightning, didn’t she?” The horse threw its head up and down like a nod and Jarrod chuckled. “Don’t worry, Lightning, I was always told if you get thrown, you have to get back on. We’ll have another go, you and me, don’t worry.” The bay tossed its head and pawed the ground. 

Jarrod suddenly had an inexplicable urge, almost like the one that had put his leg in splints in the first place. He tried to tell himself to go back inside, but then again, why shouldn’t he ride Lightning? Nick had the horse trained enough to take him out on the range the next day, it wasn’t like he was in much danger of getting bucked off.

There’d be hell to pay if anyone saw him, Jarrod reminded himself as he limped to the gate. Nick and Heath would tell him he was being an idiot and he knew his mother would wish he were still small enough for her to give him a hiding behind the woodshed. But the need to prove that he hadn’t been beaten burrowed into his brain, even though he knew he was being even more of an idiot than he’d been by trying to break the horse in the first place. 

Lightning came over when Jarrod bolted the gate behind him. “C’mon, horse,” he said and was happy to see the bay follow. Of course, if he hadn’t, Jarrod’s plan might not work, which would probably have been better. But Lightning trailed him to the corner where he figured he’d have the best chance of climbing onto the animal’s back.

Leaning his crutches against the fence, Jarrod used his arms and his good leg to pull himself onto the second board. He reached out and took a fistful of the dark mane, grabbed the splint on his leg with his other hand and threw it over the bay’s back. A brief thought flickered through his mind, _What the hell am I doing?_ and then he was astride Lightning, who took a few prancing steps that almost dislodged him. “Whoa,” Jarrod murmured softly, his heart racing as he gripped the horse’s mane. Lightning might not throw him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t fall off doing something as stupid as riding bareback with one useless leg.

But Nick’s training held and Lightning stopped. Jarrod took a few deep breaths, regained his balance and pressed his thighs against the horse’s sides. Lightning stepped out as asked and Jarrod felt a rush of accomplishment as he guided the horse across the corral.

Lazy clapping came from behind his back and Lightning sidestepped nervously when Jarrod turned in surprise.

“Like I said, Jarrod, you got guts.” Heath gave him a crooked smile as he swung himself over the fence and sauntered over. “Should I saddle up Charger so we can go for a ride?”

Jarrod smiled sheepishly. “Or maybe you could just give me a hand down before Mother sees me.”

Heath chuckled. “Swing your good leg over his neck and slide off. I’ll help you.” Jarrod did as he was told and Heath caught him when he landed. Heath draped Jarrod’s arm over his shoulders and wrapped his arm around Jarrod’s waist. “Just lean on me, big brother.” With Heath’s help, Jarrod made it over to the fence and retrieved his crutches.

“Would you believe I’m still drunk from this afternoon?” Jarrod tried, not really thinking Heath would believe him.

Sure enough, Heath shook his head. “Nope. No one still drunk would be able to climb onto a horse bareback with a broken leg.” Then Jarrod jumped when Heath squeezed his crotch and breathed in his ear, “But I reckon if you’re feeling up to mounting a horse, you might take a different sort of ride instead.” Blood surged to Jarrod’s groin. “C’mon, the barn’s closer.”

Jarrod followed Heath, who led him to the back of the barn where bales of straw were stacked. 

“Let me help.” Heath assisted Jarrod to sit on one of the bales and tucked his crutches out of the way. He dragged another bale over and carefully propped Jarrod’s leg on it before leaning in to kiss him hungrily. “Comfortable?”

“Yep.” Jarrod’s breathing quickened as Heath straddled him and kissed him even more passionately. His hands came up to lace through Heath’s hair as his brother worked his way down Jarrod’s bare chest and he inhaled sharply when Heath unfastened his pants and kissed the tip of his cock.

“Can you lift your hips?”

Jarrod nodded and Heath easily slipped off his pants and boots. Leaning back, he closed his eyes to better enjoy the sensations of Heath’s lips moving up his thigh until they reached his groin and started sucking gently on the soft skin of Jarrod’s scrotum.

Heath’s hands and mouth were suddenly gone and Jarrod looked up to see his brother taking off his own clothes. He eyed the large cock that sprang from Heath’s pants and licked his lips.

“Want some of this, Jarrod?” Heath asked lasciviously as he grasped his erection.

“You better believe it. Let me swallow it all, Heath.”

Heath straddled Jarrod again, standing so his cock was level with Jarrod’s face and slowly inserted it into Jarrod’s waiting mouth. Jarrod moaned in pleasure around the large organ and relished the salty taste of the fluid already leaking from the tip. Heath grabbed onto the back of Jarrod’s head to keep him still as he started thrusting. Jarrod knew wanting to be choked on Heath’s cock was shameless, but he didn’t care. He just tried not to gag as Heath fucked his mouth roughly. Feeling his own cock swell even more, Jarrod braced himself for his climax, but Heath pulled out before that happened.

“I know you’re a shameless slut for my cock,” Heath drawled, his dick trailing down Jarrod’s chest as he moved, “I wonder if you’ll feel the same about my ass.” He got off Jarrod and turned around so his buttocks were in front of Jarrod’s face. “I want your tongue on me, Jarrod.” He reached around, pulled his buttocks apart and pushed against Jarrod’s mouth. “Lick me, fuck me with your tongue.”

Heath’s personal hygiene was impeccable and Jarrod found the smell and taste of him not at all unpleasant. He licked at the puckered skin and Heath’s hands braced against Jarrod’s thighs so he could grind his ass more tightly into his face. Jarrod wiggled his tongue to get the tip inside Heath and was rewarded with a groan from his lover. His own hips started to move as the burn of an impending orgasm built behind his balls, but he was thwarted when Heath tugged on his cock sharply.

“Not yet,” he said, turning again. “We haven’t got to the main event.”

Before Jarrod realized what was happening, Heath had lowered himself onto Jarrod’s lap, still holding his brother’s cock, and Jarrod felt the head of his member push against Heath’s spit-slick entrance.

“Heath…” he gasped and then Heath pushed down and his cock slipped through the tight muscle. “Oh god.” His cock was gripped tightly as it slid further and further into Heath’s hot core and Jarrod was almost overwhelmed by the sensation. He looked up and their eyes locked together.

“Like that, Jarrod?” Heath asked softly. Jarrod bit his lip and nodded, not trusting his voice as Heath started to ride him slowly. “We should’ve done this before, I’m sorry it took so long.”

“S’ok,” Jarrod gasped. “It’s incredible, but I like having you inside me too.”

Heath chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.” He leaned back and Jarrod suddenly had the best of both worlds, his cock up Heath’s ass and Heath’s fingers up his. He thrust up to meet Heath and soon they had a rhythm established. The tingle started again at the base of his shaft and then the pressure was released, waves after waves of pleasure overwhelming him as his seed shot up Heath’s ass. He opened his eyes when Heath’s fingers left him and watched Heath finish himself off, groaning again when the hot semen splattered across his neck and chest.

Heath didn’t move off Jarrod’s cock, he just leaned over and licked some of the cum off Jarrod. “I’ve never asked if you mind having me let go all over you,” he murmured. “You know you just have to tell me if there’s something you don’t like.” Then he looked up, blue eyes gleaming. “Or something you do.”

“Heath, you know I’m shameless when it comes to you,” Jarrod told Heath with a lustful look of his own. “I know it’s depraved and completely hedonistic, but I love feeling like a slut with your hot seed all over me. But do you know what I like better?”

Heath raised an eyebrow at the conspiratorial tone. “What?”

“Your cum leaking out of my ass,” Jarrod told him, “or better yet, my ass stopped up with your cum still inside.”

Heath chuckled. “I think I can oblige you there too.” He moved off and Jarrod’s member felt the loss of Heath’s heat. Heath picked up his pants, reached into a pocket and pulled out the carved plug with a wink. “Grabbed it when I came outside, just in case.” Jarrod noticed Heath’s dick already starting to rise again. He caught his breath when Heath swiped at his own ass to gather Jarrod’s semen, rubbing it on his cock before he got down on his knees and penetrated Jarrod with one smooth motion.

“Damn, Jarrod, I love you,” he groaned as he fucked him, much to Jarrod’s surprise. Those three words were some of the last things he’d ever expected to hear from his brother and they brought his own unvoiced feelings into focus.

Jarrod reached up and dug his fingers into Heath’s hips, urging him harder. “Feeling’s mutual, Heath,” he gasped as Heath’s cock hit him just the right way, “I love you too.”

Then their climaxes burst over them and they both lay gasping in the aftermath. Heath pulled his cock out of Jarrod’s ass and slipped the plug in to replace it, kissing Jarrod at the same time. “I’m yours, Jarrod,” he whispered, “as much as you’re mine.”

A strangled sound came from the direction of the door and both men turned to see Nick leaving the barn as fast as his feet would carry him.


	12. Chapter 12

Jarrod and Heath exchanged a horrified glance. In their lust for each other, they hadn’t considered that anyone might walk in on them in the middle of the night. Heath gave Jarrod a hurried kiss as he moved from between Jarrod’s legs and grabbed his pants. 

“Can you manage by yourself?”

Jarrod nodded. “Just bring my pants and the crutches closer, I’ll be fine.” Heath did and as he turned to go, Jarrod grabbed him by the arm. “Heath…”

Heath grasped Jarrod’s hand tightly before he left. “I’ll find him, Jarrod.”

Jarrod’s hands shook as he pulled on his pants. An overwhelming sense of dread took up residence in his belly. He had no idea what Nick would do. Chances were he would hit first and ask questions later, that was assuming he would even bother to ask. Men who committed sodomy were considered abominations, crimes against nature, and he didn’t hold out any hope that Nick would think differently. He’d have done anything to prevent the loss of Nick’s respect, anything except give up Heath.

Then his gut clenched in fear. What if Heath didn’t feel the same way? He’d finally found the family he’d always wanted and a true partner in running the ranch with Nick. Jarrod couldn’t hold it against him if he rejected their relationship to preserve the one he had with Nick, but a small part of him died inside at the idea he could lose Heath. If that happened… Jarrod heaved a deep sigh as he pulled on his boots. He’d already made up his mind once to leave and even though that was the last thing he wanted to do, he would if it was needed to protect his family. Grabbing his crutches, he went to see if he could find his brothers.

 

Not sure which direction Nick took when he left the barn, Heath let instinct guide his feet. Sure enough, when he rounded the corner of the farthest outbuilding, he found Nick crouched there with his back hard against the wall.

Nick didn’t look up at the sound of Heath’s footsteps. “Dammit, Heath! How the hell… What the fuck did you and Jarrod think you were doing?”

Crouching down beside his brother, Heath shrugged. “Reckon you know the answer to that one already.”

Nick turned a hostile glare on Heath. “Okay, then why? I mean, I know it happens, but you and Jarrod? You’re not a couple of Mollys, you’re my brothers, dammit!”

Heath snorted. “Nick, just because a fellow’d rather have sex with a man than a woman doesn’t mean he’s different than anyone else, at least out of the bedroom.”

“Or the barn?” Nick commented snidely. “Goddammit, Heath, you and Jarrod got to know it’s wrong! The law condemns it, the Bible condemns it…”

Heath shook his head. “Yeah, Nick, we do. ‘Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is an abomination.’ My mama read me the Bible too, y’know. But the same Book also says not to eat rabbit or marry a widow. I’ve never seen you turn down rabbit stew and you danced at Toby and Margaret’s wedding just like I did.”

“But you’re still brothers,” Nick spat. “A man just doesn’t do something like that with his brother!”

“We weren’t when we met,” Heath said softly, cringing a bit at his deception. Jarrod hadn’t known, but Heath had. He reckoned it was moot now though, considering how they felt about each other. Like what he’d once said to Jarrod and despite what he said to Nick, if they were going to be condemned, it was as likely that they’d go to Hell for being men as for being brothers. And could a loving, benevolent God really keep the knowledge that they were brothers away from them, allow them to love other men without malice and then damn them for finding each other? Heath had to believe otherwise or question everything in his life up until that point. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about Jarrod,” he admitted. “Everything I’d wished for in a brother I’ve found with you, someone to ride with and have my back, but with Jarrod it’s something different.”

“It’s different, all right,” Nick stated derisively. “I never expected that of you, and finding out that Jarrod’s a goddamn catamite…”

They both turned at the sound of halting steps and Jarrod limped up to them on his crutches. Heath couldn’t miss the anguish on Jarrod’s face and knew he’d heard what Nick said. 

“I’m sorry I let you down, Nick,” Jarrod said quietly. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave as soon as I get packed, as long as I can find someone to drive me to the train station.” 

Heath stood and placed a reassuring hand on Jarrod’s shoulder. He didn’t want to make a choice between his brothers, but it was his sin as well as Jarrod’s and there was no way he’d leave him alone. “I’ll drive, Jarrod, as long as you give me time to pack too.”

“Heath, you don’t have to…” Jarrod started to protest, but Heath cut him off with a smile and a shake of his head.

“Jarrod, there ain’t no way you’re getting away from me that easy.”

Jarrod smiled sadly and gripped Heath’s hand in acknowledgement.

“Dammit, Jarrod!” Nick surged to his feet. “Damn both of you!” He paced furiously, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want either of you to leave, you’re my brothers for godssakes. But what I saw…” He shook his head, the disgust on his face mixed with confusion. “I get it, I mean men get lonely, when there’s no women around sometimes they just have to…” He stopped and fixed them with a stony glare. “But I know there’s plenty of women who’d give their right arm to be with either of you.”

Jarrod hung his head, but Heath was more than willing to stand up for both of them. “Nick, it has nothing to do with that. When I first realized I was… different, I tried it. I tried to find women attractive, but a leopard can’t change its spots. I can’t speak for Jarrod, but I reckon I’m just like that leopard.”

“Me too, Nick.” Jarrod’s voice was quiet. “Men have always aroused me more than women, I just didn’t do anything about it until recently. I finally got up the nerve to go to a place that men frequent for that same reason and that’s where I met Heath.” Heath resisted the urge to hold Jarrod and kiss his obvious pain away. “We know what we’re doing, Nick, and we’re not hurting anyone but ourselves. At least we weren’t until you saw us.” 

They stood in uncomfortable silence until Nick muttered, “Didn’t really look like you were hurting each other,” and Heath had to try not to laugh. Nick had no idea. “I’ll get over it,” Nick said more loudly. “I can’t agree with what you’re doing, but you’re my brothers,” and he gave Jarrod a meaningful look, “there’s nothing you can do that I can’t forgive.” Then he muttered under his breath again. “But I wish I could forget what I saw.”

Heath breathed a sigh of relief and saw some of the tension leave Jarrod’s face as well. “C’mon, I think we need our sleep. Working ranch, y’know,” he added with a wink to Jarrod.

“Uh, Nick,” Jarrod said hesitantly as the three brothers made their slow way back to the house., “what made you come out in the middle of the night?”

Nick laughed and Heath couldn’t think of a sound he’d rather hear at that moment. “Because my older brother’s a damnfool idiot, that’s why.” He stopped and jabbed a finger into Jarrod’s chest, stopping him as well. “What the devil did you think you were trying to prove, climbing up on a half broken horse with your leg in splints?”

Heath had to laugh as well at the chagrined look on Jarrod’s face. “That I’m a damnfool idiot?” Jarrod offered.

Nick huffed in exasperation. “You’re just lucky I don’t plan on telling Mother. And you owe me a box of your best cigars for that.”

Chuckling in relief, Jarrod agreed. “They’re yours, Nick.”

Nick held the door for Jarrod and Heath and closed it carefully behind him. He took two steps up the stairs and turned when he realized Heath wasn’t following. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Heath had already gone a few steps towards the downstairs bedroom. “Just gonna help Jarrod get to bed,” he replied, trying his best to keep any sort of lewdness out of his voice.

“Uh, yeah, okay.” Nick didn’t say another word as he went upstairs and Heath regretted making his brother uncomfortable. He really did intend on just helping Jarrod get settled.

Shutting the door behind them, Heath helped Jarrod off with his boots and pants, using extreme willpower not to cup Jarrod’s cock and balls in his hand and see if he could get him off again. He pulled the covers up over Jarrod and kissed his lips as chastely as he could. “It’ll take Nick a bit to get comfortable, but he will. Night, Jarrod.”

Jarrod nodded. “Night, Heath.” 

Heath turned to go, but Jarrod’s next comment made him pause.

“Uh, Heath, how long are you intending to keep your sperm up my ass?”

Heath didn’t even turn around. “As long as you want it there, Jarrod,” was all he said as he left and smiled at the chuckle that followed him out of the room, knowing he’d be happy to oblige him for the rest of their lives. He’d found the life he’d always wanted, the love of a family and, although the relationships he had with his brothers were very different from each other, he knew their bonds could never be broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of it for now, but I might do a continuation...
> 
> The quotes are from the Book of Leviticus in the Old Testament.


	13. drabble - "Into the Widow's Web"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> set in the episode "Into The Widow's Web", based on the prompt "Jealousy"

_“Lust for a beautiful woman. A motive as old as original sin.”_

Archer’s words stood out on the inquest transcript and Jarrod rubbed his eyes wearily. The deep passion Heath and Libby once shared was obvious; it was painfully evident that those feelings were still there. Maybe that passion did lead Heath to kill Libby’s husband for standing in their way. 

But Jarrod didn’t really believe that. His flicker of doubt was only the result of jealousy over the way Heath looked at Libby. Heath wasn’t that kind of man and, jealousy aside, Jarrod had to prove his brother innocent.


End file.
